Argument
by ABCaseasyas123
Summary: After 'Misery', a hurt Kurt lashes out at Blaine, and is rejected cruelly at a time of need, coming to the conclusion that nobody wants him around. After a complete change in personality, will anybody recognize him?
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:**

**Hey guys! So this is my first fanfiction. I am obsessed with Klaine, particularly Kurt, and this story has been at the back of my mind for a while now. It will be a multi-chaptered fic. Please please review so I know what you think of it, perhaps what you are expecting, also feel free to give any ideas on what you think should happen. :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee or any characters**

Argument

Blaine finished the last note of 'Misery' feeling rather proud of himself. He made his way over to Kurt, who was fitting a cover onto Pavarotti's cage. He had noticed that something was off about Kurt, while they were singing; Kurt's smile had seemed forced, and right now he looked like wanted nothing less than to be there. Blaine decided not to push the matter. Looking for something to break the silence, he said,

"Only you would have found a Burberry-esque canary cage cover."

As Kurt fussed over Pavarotti, Blaine found himself thinking _Maybe he's alright after all. Maybe I just read him wrong. _He decided to just go for it.

"So what did you think?"

_..Aaand maybe not… _Blaine had to fight to stop himself from rolling his eyes when Kurt mentioned 'Blaine and the Pips'. Anyone within 30 feet of him could tell that Kurt wasn't having a very good day. Today the most anyone would hear from him were sarcastic comments and snappy remarks. What nobody was expecting was when Kurt stopped halfway through stalking off and turned back to Blaine. He was looking paler than usual today, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He had been stretched almost to breaking point and this, it seemed was his release.

"You know what, Blaine, I am just _sick of it._ I am sick of working so hard, when everyone else here just breezes by, I am sick of having to _blend in_, I am sick of being a goddamn ukulele! Whenever I got to this point in Mckinley, I at least had my fashion, and my voice! Here, I have nothing! _Nothing!_ And most of all, Blaine Anderson, I am just sick and tired of you!"

That definitely caught Blaine by surprise. He had an inkling that Kurt was feeling extremely out of place at Dalton, and had done everything he could to prevent those feelings, and ensure that his friend wasn't too bogged down by the heavy workload that was their daily coursework. But Blaine was utterly confused as to why _he _was the cause of Kurt's distress.

"Me?" he said, confusion evident in his voice.

"Yes, you!" snapped Kurt, going red with rage. "I am _sick_ of your dapperness, and your polite _robotic _exterior! Why can't you be normal for once? Why is it that I must _always _be compared to you? Because actually, Blaine Anderson, you are not perfect. You are completely oblivious and extremely inconsiderate!"

The whole room went silent. All eyes were on the two boys, the slightly taller fuming one, and the dark-haired one facing him. To all but those who knew him well, he looked simply shocked. But amongst the crowd gathering at the magnificent double doors, Wes and David recognized a glint of anger in his hazel eyes. His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes, as if to calm himself, taking a deep breath.

"Kurt," he said quietly. "Maybe we need to talk. Perhaps without an audience?" he said pointedly.

"Always the gentleman!" said Kurt throwing his hands up in the air. His voice dripped with sarcasm and he was giving Blaine his best bitch stare. Blaine saw red.

"Well, _Hummel, _you're not exactly perfect yourself. I tried to help you, but if you insist on throwing your little temper tantrums, I think we would all appreciate if you went somewhere else. If Dalton isn't satisfying your every need, then maybe you should go back to Mckinley. I'm sure you'll be much happier there." There was a collected intake of breath from the double doors, but Blaine was too angry at this point to care. Kurt was looking back at him. Shock filled his eyes, which had turned green in his anger, before he had turned on his heel and walked out of the door, but not before Blaine had shouted after him: "I'm sure Karofsky's missed his favourite punching bag!"

Kurt froze. He looked back and walked until he was right in front of Blaine. The shock had left his eyes, only to be replaced by a look of pure hatred. He looked down at Blaine, who was still seething and brought his hand up in a _slap_ right across his face. For someone who looked so fragile, he sure had strength. Blaine's head snapped sideways at the impact. Kurt then looked at their onlookers, nodded and said curtly, "Gentlemen." He then proceeded to storm out of the room and slam the mahogany doors behind him.

Blaine turned around, clutching his still stinging cheek. Wes and David were looking at him with disappointment in their eyes. They shook their heads and walked out of the room after Kurt.

* * *

Kurt's walking increased rapidly, until he had broken into a full sprint. His anger had ebbed away, and now only hurt and determination remained. He thought he heard someone calling his name, but didn't stop. He ran to his dorm, and with shaking hands, unlocked the door. On the other side, he walked over to the heavy desk, and with some difficulty, dragged it so it acted as an effective barricade for the door.

He grabbed his bag and began packing anything worth taking. His phone, his laptop and his music. He had left most of his treasured designer clothes at his own house and he would certainly not miss the Dalton uniform. Whoever had been following him had caught up with him. From their voices, he knew them to be Wes and David.

_Strange _he thought _Surely they would have backed their best friend. _But he didn't allow himself to dwell on it. He hauled himself out of the window, looking back only once to give his room one last sweeping glance to make sure he hadn't left anything behind, then he jumped. As he had expected, he landed on the balcony of the teacher's lounge beneath his dorm. Climbing over the metal railing, he surveyed the drop beneath him. It was about 25 feet. He dropped, landing on both his feet. The impact wasn't as bad as he had expected. Being in the Cheerios must have toughened him up more than he thought. He reached the parking lot and got into his Navigator, flinging his bag onto the passenger seat. He then drove, away from Dalton, and never looked back. He hoped he would never see it again, though he expected he would be forced to return.

_Funny _he thought _what was supposed to be my safe haven ended up being my prison. _He chuckled darkly at the irony. Safely away from the ghastly, castle like school, Kurt pulled over to the side of a lonely country road. He brought his head down to the steering wheel and allowed the tears that had been threatening to spill all morning fall. He let gut-wrenching, heart-breaking sobs take over his body until he was subdued into a mere shivering mess. He then switched on the ignition, and drove back to Lima, tears still flowing freely down his cheeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

**Hello! First of all, THANK YOU all for the feedback. Please keep on reviewing! This chapter is longer than the last, mostly because of the dialogue. Sorry if I couldn't quite capture the characters in the right way, it's my first time writing, so.. yeah.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee or any characters_. _  
**

* * *

Blaine watched the black Navigator go through the gates of Dalton Academy and out of sight. _Good_ he thinks. _We both need some time to calm down. _There was _still _a prickling sensation in his cheek. He heard footsteps and turned around when he heard Wes' voice.

"You complete _idiot!"_

Blaine was torn between confusion and defiance.

"What? It's not my fault that Kurt's decided to be a grade A bitch today." He replied scathingly. Wes and David looked at each other, wide eyed and with their eyebrows raised.

"I can't believe you." Said David disgustedly, shaking his head.

Blaine was starting to feel angry again.

"_What?" _he shouted. It wasn't fair. They were supposed to be _his _friends, and now they were backing up Kurt, without giving him a reason.

"Let's break this down for you." Wes said, as if speaking to a small child. Blaine rolled his eyes at the condescending tone, but knew that he would not get an explanation if he didn't play along.

"So Kurt's been really stressed lately. You've at least noticed that, right?"

"Yes. But that doesn't give hi-"

"Shut up and let me finish! Kurt's been really stressed lately. You're the only one who knows the full story about why he came here, although you've made it quite clear that someone was harassing him. So he's worried about that. He has a _lot _of work now, and he has been finding it difficult to deal with that. On top of that, he's finding it difficult to fit in properly. You _know _that in Mckinley that he was a true diva –"

"Got that bit right" muttered Blaine.

"Blaine! So he's used to sticking out, and wearing his own clothes, that although are bizarre, seem to work really really well.."

"Wes, getting off topic." Said David, rolling his eyes.

"Right, Kurt hasn't been talking as much in Warbler practice, and anyone could tell that that smile is _incredibly _forced-"

"Is it? I've never really noticed-"

"That, Blaine, is because Kurt's right, you are _extremely _oblivious. And inconsiderate."

"Hey! I don't need you to-"

"Shut up Blaine! We will tell you why. Ever since Kurtie skipped into school on the first day, everybody apart from you, noticed that he was head over heels in love with you-"

"What? No he's not, he just had a crush on me, and we worked through that-"

"It was more than just a crush, lover boy, and anybody could tell why. You guys would just flirt back and forth, singing romantic duets together one minute and then you would tell him that he was a great friend the next. Excuse me for classifying those as _mixed signals._ You got the poor guy so confused, and that only added to his stress. And then, Valentine's Day came along." Wes paused for effect.

"And you were all gushing about how you had fallen in love. _Everybody _in the Warblers was expecting you to serenade Kurt, that you had somehow marched out of your oblivion and realized that you were head over heels in love with him too-"

Blaine scoffed. "I am NOT. Especially if _that's –" _he pointed at the door that Kurt had exited from "how he treats me."

"He had every right to, Blaine. _You _pushed him to his limit. The only reason the council agreed to the 'Gap Attack' was because we couldn't back out once we realized it wasn't for Kurt. He became more subdued from that point on, but he still supported you, and comforted you when Blonde Dreadlocks rejected you. So he finally gets the _courage_ to tell you he likes you-"

"Wait, how do you know so much anyway?" Blaine's curiosity got the better of him.

Wes merely shrugged. "We have our sources. Anyway, he tells you he likes you, and you reject him. He puts on a brave face, and yet you still continue to hurt him."

"How did I hurt him, pray tell?" said Blaine sarcastically.

"You went out with his best friend, who is a _girl _two weeks after you rejected him. A girl, who apart from the fact that she is extremely short and _very_ annoying is almost _exactly _the same as him. A girl who he is always competing against. To her, he feels second-best. And you chose _her _over him. In something he thought she could never compete with him in, because you're supposed to be _gay. "_

_"I am gay!_"

"You know that now, but back then you thought you were bi. I thought that that was the stupidest mistake you'd ever made, but of course, Blaine Anderson, you just keep on outdoing yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"The whole 'Animal' debacle. Have you ever seen videos of Kurt doing other numbers at his old school? That boy is _hot!_ And I am completely straight." He added quickly at the looks that David and Blaine were giving him.

"Kurt just wasn't used to being told to _act _sexy. He can do that bit on his own. You ever watched his rendition of 'Four Minutes'?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Oh. It was when he was a cheerleader-"

"Kurt was a cheerleader?" Blaine asked, his mouth dropping open.

Wes nodded. "Anyway, this boy don't need anything to be sexy, and like he told you, he knows nothing about sex, right?"

Blaine nodded, still unable to get over the fact that Kurt had been a _cheerleader_.

"I'll admit, he did embarrass himself, but can you blame him? Everyone was making such a big deal about it, if you had told him to act naturally, he would have been so unbelievably sexy that it would drill its way through that unbelievably thick skull of yours that _you are in love with Kurt_ and you would probably be making unicorn babies and puking out rainbows…"

"Wes…"

"Right. But you didn't. you told him to act like something that he knows nothing about, and yet he tried anyway to try and _impress _you. Granted, it didn't work, but you could have dealt with it a little differently. Blaine, you told him that he wasn't sexy! You completely broke the confidence that he had been building up. And then you tried to give him _sexy lessons_! You, Blaine Anderson were probably the worst thing that happened to him. True, you got him to open up, but you were also the reason he closed off again! I can't even believe you!"

Blaine was trying to comprehend what Wes was now shouting in his face. It made a lot more sense when it was put that way, and now guilt was beginning to wash over him. Rather feebly, he hung on to the last argument he had left.

"B-but you don't even know if he is in love with me! Where is the proof in that!"

Wes and David face palmed simultaneously. David sighed, and grabbed Blaine's arm.

"Come on.."

It took a while for Blaine to realize that they were heading for Kurt's dorm room.

"Why are we going to Kurt's room? He left."

Wes and David stopped in their tracks.

"_What?"_

"Yeah, he was in his car, and he left just before you came to me."

Wes and David looked at Blaine, horrified.

"But we were outside his room. He barricaded the door, and he didn't come out, so we just assumed he was moping or something."

"He must have jumped out of the window!" said David in horror. Wes looked impressed.

"That is pretty badass."

David and Blaine looked at him incredulously.

"Come on." Said Blaine, taking a lead. Sure, he was still mad at Kurt, but if what Wes had said were true, and if he had _jumped out of a freaking window_, then Kurt was feeling a lot worse than he was, and the more they found out, the better. Once they reached Kurt's door, they all heaved against it with all their might until they had enough space for one of them to get through and move the desk for the others. Wes went through.

"Holy shit, he moved this by _himself!_" Wes panted, managing to move the desk about an inch before collapsing. "Where was it before?"

"The opposite side of the room." Blaine informed him. Wes whistled.

"That guy's got guns."

David and Blaine crawled through the gap that Wes had and altogether they managed to move the desk against the wall, though nowhere near where it had been originally. Blaine looked around the room. Kurt's things were missing. His blood ran cold.

"Guys, most of Kurt's stuff is gone."

David turned to him.

"No it's not, look all his stuff is here." He pointed to the bookshelf and the closet where Kurt's schoolbooks and some clothes were.

"No, I mean, his laptop, and all his DVD's…"

Wes suddenly shouted triumphantly. He held a notebook in his hand. He hadn't seemed to notice that his friend's belongings were gone.

"Here it is. One Kurt Hummel was seen doodling in this around a week before Valentine's Day. If that isn't love, what is?"

He showed them the page. Blaine took a sharp intake of breath. There was a red heart that occupied the page, with 'Kurt + Blaine' in the middle. Blaine's own heart ached for Kurt. If that was true, then everything else was true. Which meant that Blaine was a Class A Jerk. And Kurt, had, it seemed, run away. Blaine had told him to go back to Mckinley. And.. Blaine's eyes widened as he recalled what he had said to earn a slap from Kurt. Kurt wouldn't ever forgive him. And Kurt was god knows where, probably on his way to Lima, to go back to Karofsky….

"Oh shit. _Shit, shit SHIT!" _David's voice interrupted Blaine's thoughts. He was standing next to Kurt's calendar, hanging over an empty space that his desk had occupied. "Guys, today isn't the 12th is it?"

Blaine and Wes nodded silently. "_Shit! _That's why he was off today!" Blaine and Wes neared the calendar. As they read what was written under the small black number 12, their mouths fell open. Blaine's eyes filled with tears as he finally understood. He felt terrible. He sunk to the ground, and looked up at Kurt's almost empty room. And it was Blaine's fault.

* * *

Kurt slowed down when he reached the parking lot of Mckinley High School. He looked up at the building and felt a familiar sense of _home_ wash over him. Who cares about Karofsky? Kurt could have dealt with him. At that moment his phone went off. He looked at it.

_1 new message from Blaine_

Kurt almost laughed at his nerve. It was only when he caught sight of himself in his rearview mirror that he realized he was giving his bitch face to his phone, as if it had done the offence. Really laughing this time, he walked out of his car and into school. As if on cue, the bell rang for the morning break, and students filled the hallways almost instantly.

"Look who it is! Hey Lady!" said a sneering voice from behind him. "Missed us, did you? I bet you missed this." And Kurt felt the all-too familiar icy cold sensation as blue slushy was thrown into his face. He brought his hands up and scooped it out of his eyes in time to see the retreating backs of Azimio and Karofsky, dressed in their letterman's jackets. Rage filled him for the second time that day, as he ran after them.

"_Hey_!"

They turned around sneering. Kurt was shivering, still in his Dalton's uniform, and dripping blue ice. But he had fire in his eyes. Karofsky smirked and held out his arm at the last minute, so that Kurt crashed into it, and Karofsky was in control. He smashed him against the wall of lockers, with his arm against Kurt's throat. Kurt spluttered, finding it difficult to breathe. His life flashed before his eyes. _This is it _he thought _I come back for a half hour and I'm going to die_. Karofsky loosened his hold, but only to bring his meaty hands around Kurt's neck and crash him as hard as he could into the locker. Kurt gasped in pain and tears came out of his eyes as he had the air knocked out of him. He fell to the ground. Karofsky turned and spat at him.

"Nobody wants you here, Hummel. At this point I would tell you to run to your mommy, but you don't have one, do you? She died, _just to get away from you._ No one, not even a whore like her deserves to have a fag like you as a son."

And with that, he walked away, high-fiving Azimio as he went. Kurt just lay there, sat there, automatically going to the foetal position, and crying slowly at the new wound that Karofsky's words had created, though he had thought that he had been dried out from the car. He got up, wincing, and limped back to his car. Thank God he hadn't met any of the New directions, and if anybody else had noticed him, they didn't greet him or ask about his wellbeing. Maybe the world really was better off without him.

He got to the car, revelling at the fact that he had decided to bring an extra change of clothes. He changed quickly, grimacing as his shirt brushed against the bruises on his neck. He had to wear a scarf of some sort. Once he had finished, he went up the stairs onto the roof of the school building. He sat against the wall edge and brought his knees up to his chest. _This _was his safe haven. Not Dalton, not anywhere, but up there on Mckinley's roof. He took out his phone from his pocket, eyes widening when he saw the screen.

_56 missed calls_

_23 new messages_

He scrolled down the caller ID'S. Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Wes, Blaine, David, Wes, Blaine, Wes, Wes, David, Blaine… He ground his teeth in rage, and deleted the messages without looking at them. He called speed-dial 1, and waited for it to go through, so he could hear the voice of the one person he could rely on..

"Hummel's Tires and Lube. Burt Hummel speaking."

"Dad! I- How are you?"

"Kurt? That you, kiddo?"

"Y-yeah, Dad, I really need to talk, I-"

"Listen, Kurt, I'm sorry, but I told you, you only call me at work for emergencies, alright?"

"But Dad-"

"No Kurt, I'm sorry, the garage is really busy right now, if you need to talk to someone, talk to that Blaine kid, or Mercedes, I'm busy."

"Dad!"

"Kurt!" His dad was starting to get annoyed. "I'm gonna go now, oh, and you might want to stay at Dalton for the weekend, me and Carole are finally gonna go on that honeymoon. We're taking a weekend trip to-"

"But Dad I need you!"

There was a silence.

"That's very selfish of you Kurt. I'm not the one you go to this time. I couldn't go on my original honeymoon because we were sending you to goddamn private school, and now you are telling me that you need me right before I go on my compromise honeymoon. No Kurt that is very selfish of you. I'll see you when I come back."

"I'm sorry, love yo-"

But Burt had already hung up. Kurt just shook with sobs again and lay down on the cold concrete, making a small puddle of tears. Burt had forgotten. He'd _forgotten. _Kurt's only anchor was too busy to remember the terrible significance of today. Kurt got up, brushed his tears off, and prepared himself to go back downstairs to the school. When he reached the door, he put on the fake smile he had perfected over the months and slowly descended into Mckinley High's hallways.

* * *

**So, what did you think? Please review!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**Well, howdy!This is Chapter 3. Obviously. Thank you so much for the reviews and stuff. They are AWESOME. They really make my day. This was a hard chapter for me to write, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway :)  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee.  
**

* * *

"David, seriously, can't this thing go any faster?"

Blaine and Wes were practically jumping up and down in their seats. David sighed, and tried ignoring them; he really had to keep his eyes on the road.

"David, don't you _get it?_ You have to hurry, Kurt could be anywhere, Karofsky could have got him, and it's all my fault, and-"

"Yeah, David, he's our friend, and if we hadn't rejected him when he sang 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina' he could be alright by now.."

"..and Karofsky said he would kill him, and-"

"..I mean it was a great song and..wait WHAT?"

David was also looking at Blaine, shocked. Blaine looked absolutely terrified, with tearstained cheeks, and wide eyes. He looked like a lost puppy.

"Blaine, I think you should tell us the whole Karofsky story. All of it. So that we understand."

Blaine looked at them for a moment, apprehensive, and then relented, and started narrating the story.

* * *

Kurt walked in to the choir room to squeals and yells of delight.

"Kurt!"

"Hey Kurt!"

He was suddenly enveloped in a painful hug as all of the New Directions excluding Artie and Rachel ran towards him. He winced internally as they clapped him on the back. Rachel was sitting where she always did, on the front row and in the middle. She was frowning and had her arms folded.

"Nice as it is to see you Kurt, may I ask why you are here? You are not part of us anymore."

Those words really hurt, especially in his current situation. _Nobody really does want me_ he thought.

_I don't belong._

_We would all appreciate if you went somewhere else.._

_Nobody wants you here, Hummel_

_I'm busy..very selfish of you_

_You are not part of us anymore.._

As Kurt looked around, he expected to see them all glaring at Rachel, which they usually did when she made an inappropriate remark like that. However, to his surprise, and horror, the New Directions were looking at him rather sheepishly as they nodded their agreement and looked at him with questioning eyes.

"Yeah, bro, like, why are you here?" Finn broke the silence. Kurt was hurt by this more than anything else.

"What you won't let me visit for fear that I might steal your setlist or something?" Kurt looked over at Mercedes, but she was carefully not looking anywhere near him.

"Well, why else would you be here so close to Regionals?" piped up Rachel. She had stood up, not that it made a major difference to her height. _She's more of a hobbit than Blaine._ The thought of Blaine didn't help him at all. He moved towards the door of his old choir room and turned around to look at the New Directions. Rachel, Artie, and Tina were looking at him, arms folded, and the rest of them just looked uncomfortable.

"Fine. I'll just go. Good luck at Regionals. Finn, I'll see you around." And with that he walked out, out of the choir room, out of Mckinley High school, out of their lives. After all, it was just another place he didn't belong.

David and Wes sat in silence as Blaine finished his story. Wes was crying silently, being the one who was affected more by emotional stories. David looked angry.

"You're even more of an idiot now, Blaine." David said.

"I know." Said Blaine quietly, tears of shame prickling in the corners of his eyes.

"Wait, is that it? We're here." David pointed to the sign that read 'William Mckinley High School'.

All three of them unbuckled their seatbelts and walked towards the school. Blaine had been a couple of times, but didn't know his way around. They finally walked past a room where Blaine recognized somebody.

"Finn?" The lanky teenager looked up. A short brown-haired girl groaned at the sight of the three boys.

"Hello Blaine Warbler. First you send Kurt to spy on us, then you come? You could have at least changed out of your uniform like Kurt did. I would have expected more of you."

Blaine, Wes and David looked at her, confused.

"Kurt was here, but he isn't anymore? Where did he go?"

Rachel was looking at him as if he was crazy.

"How would I know? Now do you mind leaving, all three of you, we don't need you here, come on, we'll see you at Regionals."

"But..Kurt-"

"Yes, yes, Kurt's in your club now, but we'll kick your collective asses anyway." She slammed the door in their faces. There was a silence as they stood in the hallway.

"You dated _her?_"

* * *

Kurt practically fell out of his car when he pulled up outside the Hudmel's household. Extracting his house key from the depths of his bag, he opened the door and walked in. The house felt different somehow, although no visible changes had been made, Kurt couldn't help but feel that he wasn't wanted. _Great, even a freaking house doesn't want me. _He sighed dejectedly and trudged up the stairs to his bedroom to start his unpleasant task.

He started his computer and fixed the webcam. _Am I ready for this? _He asked himself. _It doesn't matter. I have to do it anyway._

"Hey, everyone. Dad, Carole, Finn. Blaine. Warblers and New Directions. This is me saying goodbye. I've lived my life, with the hope that somebody will return my love. Dad, you were that somebody. And, you'll probably think this is _selfish _of me to say, but when I needed you today, of all days, you let me down. Because of this, I can't forgive you right now. Not you. Not today. Because, you were my last anchor to her, and you forgot."

Tears were spilling freely down his cheeks now, and he fought hard for his voice not to break.

"Today, it was my mother's 9th anniversary of death. I've spent the last month dreading this day. Warblers, those who have asked why I've seemed 'off'," he chuckled despite himself "that is why. Blaine. I'm sorry for everything I said to you. But you should have noticed, Blaine."

Here his voice wavered slightly, but he carried on, his voice getting stronger.

"Blaine, If I don't tell you now, I never will. I'm in love with you. I always have been. And I wish that you returned my love, and I wish that we could be together. But I can't take waiting anymore. And I can't stand it when I am dependant on people. I need to be needed. And I need to be wanted. I'm not needed in the Warblers, I'm not wanted in New Directions. I'm not wanted, as a friend, as a boyfriend, or even as a son. I mean, look at me, I'm pathetic! Who wants a gay son with a voice too high? Of course I'd get bullied! And of course, it would be _so_ difficult to raise me. Dad you've got Finn now. And you've got Carole to make sure you're eating well. Just because I won't be here anymore, it doesn't mean that you don't need to be fussed over." He gave a small smile. " Finn, you be good to my dad. Be the great, straight son that he deserved but never had. I'll just leave. And it'll be okay. I'll take my savings, and I'll leave Lima. Maybe in a few years I'll leave a message. I'll never forget you, all of you.

But before I leave for good, I want to sing a song. A farewell song. It's supposed to be about death, but in the circumstances, I think it fits.

**Oh we never know where life will take us**  
**I know it's just a ride on the wheel**  
**And we never know when death will shake us**  
**And we wonder how it will feel**

**So goodbye my friend**  
**I know I'll never see you again**  
**But the time together through all the years**  
**Will take away these tears**  
**It's okay now**  
**Goodbye my friend**

**I've seen a lot things that make me crazy**  
**And I guess I held on to you**  
**We could've run away and left well maybe**  
**But it wasn't time and we both knew**

**So goodbye my friend**  
**I know I'll never see you again**  
**But the love you gave me through all the years**  
**Will take away these tears**  
**I'm okay now**  
**Goodbye my friend**

I love you all. But having me around isn't the best idea. As for me, you won't find me, even if you try." He looked straight at the camera. "So don't bother. I don't want to be more of a burden than I already am." He paused and his eyes darkened. "I'll just warn you. I saw David Karofsky today, and he's more dangerous now than ever." He took a deep breath and gave a small sad smile before turning the camera off.

He saved the video onto a USB port and taped it to a photo of himself. On the photo, he wrote, 'Watch it. You'll understand. I love you all.' And he set to work, packing his things.

* * *

**OH MY GOD! Whatever will happen now? ;) Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

**Hey people, chapter 4 uploaded for your scrutiny! Thank you all for your reviews and alerts and stuff, they makes me so happy :3 So.. enjoy!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee.  
**

Blaine was at a loss. He wasn't sure where Kurt would go next, though he had a feeling that it would be his home. Trouble was, Blaine didn't know where Kurt lived. Sure, they had met up at the Lima Bean, and around Dalton, but they hadn't ever been to Kurt's house before. He was growing frantic. Kurt had been rejected by New Directions which meant that he must have been feeling really depressed. Blaine hadn't seen Kurt properly depressed since the days of Karofsky. He wasn't sure what Kurt would do. Blaine could help back then by suggesting Disney movies and ice cream, but it wasn't very likely that was going to happen when Blaine didn't know where Kurt was.

* * *

Burt got home at six. He frowned slightly at the unfamiliar feeling the house held but thought nothing of it. As he caught sight of he and Carole's plane tickets on the kitchen counter he smiled to himself and went to pack. He walked past Kurt's bedroom. He didn't walk in. If he had, he would have noticed the DVD on his son's desk. When he reached his own bedroom, he didn't look out of his window. If he had, he would have noticed the slight boy leaning against his black Navigator, looking up at the house, as though saying goodbye.

* * *

Finn was confused, though that was nothing new. What intrigued him was why Kurt had come to Mckinley in the first place. While in the back of his mind he knew his step-brother would never actually steal their setlist, he thought it was strange that he had turned up so close to Regionals, and remembered that when Kurt wanted something, he would do anything to get it. He shuddered slightly as he remembered Kurt's advances on him before they had become step brothers. He knew how much Kurt wanted to win. Frowning slightly, he closed his locker, where he had been standing to find a beaming Rachel. All thoughts of Kurt disappearing, he smiled back and took her hand, walking her to the parking lot.

Once he had got home, Finn opened the fridge, grabbed some snacks, then read the note on the kitchen counter. It was from his mom.

_Hey sweetie,_

_Burt and I have left for our weekend honeymoon. We'll be back on Monday. No parties, ok? We're trusting you. Also, Burt spoke to Kurt, he told him to stay at Dalton for the weekend, alright?_

_Love you,_

_Mom_

Finn smiled at the note. He bounded up the stairs two at a time and immediately switched on his X Box, calling Puck. With their headphones on, neither of them heard the persistent ringing coming from Kurt's room. If they had, they would have walked in, and noticed Kurt's iPhone resting on top of the DVD, screen lit up with yet another missed call.

* * *

Santana Lopez shivered as she stepped out of her car. Although the Cheerios uniform was hot, she wished that it could be warmer. There was only one other car parked outside the gates of West Lima Cemetery. She thought she recognised the black Navigator, but put it down as one of the cars of the many, many guys she had dated. She walked through the gates. She didn't come here often, but it was days like today when she really missed her sister. Nobody knew of her. After she had died of cancer five years previously, Santana had refused to talk about her to anyone, pretending that she had never had one. But only Brittany knew how much she hurt inside and cried at night sometimes, for her sister Isabella.

She walked briskly to her sister's grave, situated right at the back of the graveyard. She passed someone wearing a black coat and a red scarf which covered his face. He was standing over a grave under an oak tree, head bowed. Something struck a chord in her head about the way he held himself. His shoulders were shaking as he bent down and stroked the words written on the marble headstone. He straightened up and turned around, realizing just then that Santana was there. He froze as he looked at her, but she couldn't see his face because of the scarf. He then stood up, and walked quickly towards the exit. Santana watched him leave, still trying to remember. She said a few words to her sister and walked over to the grave beneath the oak tree, peering curiously. As she read what was written her eyes widened, as everything fell into place in her head.

_Here lies Elizabeth Hummel_

_Wife, Mother, Daughter_

_27th April 1969 - 12th March 2001_

_"Always will you remain in our hearts"_

Santana looked up to see if the car was still there, but it had gone. Tears filled her eyes (though she would deny it) for Kurt. She remembered how dejected he looked, although to anyone else he seemed perfectly cheerful, she however, could see through people and she could tell that earlier in glee club, he wasn't radiating his normal gay cheer. She extracted her phone from inside her top and looked through her contacts. When she found 'Porcelain', she pressed the call button. It rang, but nobody picked up. She rolled her eyes. His dad being a mechanic, Porcelain had always been well aware of 'car safety' and so never used his phone while driving.

However, even several hours later, when he would have had enough time to get home, his phone still went to voicemail. She didn't blame him. If he was anything like her, he wouldn't want to talk to anybody anyway. However, to ensure that he was OK, she decided to call Frankenteen. Hummel had mentioned seeing him at home that night during glee club. She didn't even know why she cared so much, it was only Hummel after all, but despite being a bitch, she appreciated a good friend. Kurt was possibly the most awesome person she knew, apart from her Brittany, of course, and he came second only to her when it came to being an ice queen. She dialled Finn's number and waited.

* * *

Finn picked up the phone, as Puck tossed it to him. He used his shoulder to secure it to his ear while he clutched at his X Box controller.

"Yo, Man-Boobs, my boy Hummel there?"

Finn gritted his teeth at the insult. He paused his game, and left Puck sitting on the floor, looking annoyed as he walked to the door. Now that he came to think about it, Kurt had said he would come home today, even though the note from his mom said he would stay at Dalton. He knew that he wouldn't have heard if Kurt had come or not, seeing as he blasted the volume on his headphones way up so as to appreciate the awesomeness of MW3. He reached Kurt's room, attempting to put the lights on. As it was, he tripped over his own feet, his arm swiping madly through the air,and knocked over half the things on Kurt's desk. Puck came to the door, having heard the loud crash that had resounded. His phone slipped out from his shoulders, and fell on top of the mess of books and papers, all of which had been in neat piles. He picked the phone up hurriedly.

"No, Santana he isn't here. I think he's staying at Dalton for the weekend. Why?"

"Oh. Nothing I would expect you to understand, Gormless. He won't pick up his phone, that's all."

"Ok. Umm.. well call him tomorrow or something. It is 10, and you know he's probably doing his moisturizing thingy by now or something."

Puck sniggered from the door. Finn frowned at him, though he looked amused. He hung up the phone after another insult and goodbye from Santana, and turned to the mess on the floor. Puck looked at him.

"Dude, just leave that, come on, the guys are waiting."

Finn rolled his eyes, and walked back to his room, grabbing his controller. The DVD, phone, and photograph remained at the bottom of the messy pile now on Kurt's bedroom floor. Puck and Finn resumed their games, laughing at Kurt's need to moisturize, and making jokes about the sheer amount of creams that boy used as a daily skincare routine.

Had they walked into Kurt's en suite bathroom, they would have noticed that all of his bottles remained in their neat row, in order of use, as did all of Kurt's hair care products. In fact, all of the possessions that made him Kurt remained. The only noticeable item of clothing missing was one that could usually be found at the back of Kurt's closet, his most expensive, most prized item of outerwear. He had only worn it once, and had received a lot of unwanted female attention. This item of clothing was aForzieri collection sleek black leather jacket.

* * *

**DUN DUN DUUUUN! Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! Chapter 5 is up! Exams soon, so I'm revising, so if this chapter is not quite up to scratch, I'm sorry :(  
**

**Oh, and this is the shortest chapter so far... Which is kinda saying something because my chapters are quite short.. Sorry. Hopefully after exam week, I'll have more time to write. I actually have a ton of ideas for other strories too, but not enough time to write them. Maybe in the summer?  
**

**OMG Promasaurus was EPIC! I can't wait for the next episode! :D  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee  
**

* * *

Kurt drove away from the cemetery, hastily wiping his tears from his eyes. _That's it_ he thought _This is the last time you cry. You are away from everything now. You don't care. You're turning over a new leaf, starting a new life. And you are not going to let yourself get hurt. First step, don't let yourself care. That means stop crying._ Grabbing a tissue from inside the glove compartment, he blew his nose, and sat up straighter. _No!_ he told himself _New personality. This is a tough you. You don't care about posture. Slump your shoulders, goddamnit!_ He slid down the driver's seat, hunching his shoulders, this tiny gesture to changing, exciting him. He ran his fingers through his hair, loving the fact that he could mess it up, and not care. He had left his products at home and at Dalton, and no way was he buying himself anything else. Those tiny bottles of scented creams were freaking expensive.

Once he reached the mall on the outskirts of Lima, he parked his car and walked to the entrance, trying out different walks until he found the one, a strut dissimilar to his natural walk, which was merely his head held high and swinging his hips. He walked into the first clothes store he found. He smirked to himself, and picked out a couple of pairs of jeans. No matter how much he was changing, he was still him and knew what looked good on him. He chose some tight muscle shirts and a pair of bulky boots and paid for it all on his card. Prior to leaving, he had extracted his savings online to go in his own bank account, the account his mother had made for him when he was a child. True, the money was supposed to be for college, but he could hardly care now. He had also hacked into his Dad's bank account and cancelled the automatic payment for his tuition fees at Dalton. After all, he was not returning. He went into the changing room, feeling uncomfortable in his new look, but assuring himself that he would get used to it.

Reaching his car, he opened the backseat and slid on his leather jacket. It fit him perfectly, and, he thought to himself as he looked at the reflection on his side mirror, he didn't look half-bad. Smirking, once again, he got into his car and drove, away from Lima, into his new life.

* * *

Blaine ran his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time that day. The gel had completely gone off now, and his afro of curls were in disarray. He, David and Wes had driven back to Dalton after almost three hours of driving around Lima, looking in places where they thought Kurt could have gone, from his Dad's tyre shop, to the Lima Bean, to the cemetery. Blaine was worried, but didn't know who to call. The sign outside Hummel's Tyres and Lube read that Burt was away for the weekend, and Blaine didn't have Finn's number. He once again pressed dial on his phone, although he knew that Kurt wouldn't pick up. Wes and David looked at each other and then at the pitiful sight in front of them.

Blaine had been doing everything he could not to break down. Now, though, he curled up on his bed and stuck his face into his pillow. After a moment, his shoulders began to shake. Their hearts broke at the sight of him, broken, helpless. David put his arms around him and Wes went to get him a glass of water. When Blaine surfaced from the pillow, his face was red and blotchy and his pillow was damp.

"Don't give up yet, Blaine." whispered David. He and Wes had cast their minds out to try and find a way of contacting anybody who could tell them about Kurt. It was the weekend, and Kurt could have gone to stay with Finn over the weekend. There was still a chance. Blaine suddenly sat up, reaching for his phone on the bedside cabinet and toppling over the side of the bed in his haste to do so. David looked confused. He looked questioningly over at Blaine. The boy was looking through his contacts. He saw David watching him.

"Rachel." He said simply. David's eyes widened and he joined Blaine tilting his head so he could hear their conversation, but Blaine chuckled weakly and put it on loudspeaker. Please pick up, please, please please.. The phone rang three times before Rachel's voice rang through loudly, causing all three boys to jump back.

"Blaine Warbler! To what do I owe the pleasure? If you have decided to rekindle our marvellous romance, I'm afraid to state that I am taken."

Blaine rolled his eyes and cut her short.

"Rach, this isn't about dating you, OR about your setlist." He added hastily as he sensed that she was about to speak. Rachel stayed silent, in an invitation for him to continue.

"Have you heard from Kurt?" he asked, hoping against hope that her answer would be…

"No. Not since he very rudely decided to try and steal our setlist for Regionals. I think he went home for the weekend. Why?"

"Can you give me Finn's number?"

"Mr Warbler, I assure you that Finn is straight, he demonstrated that last year when he called Kurt an unpleasant name. Also I am dating him. You missed your chance."

Blaine was so confused, he didn't even correct her.

"What? When did Finn call him an unpleasant name?"

"To be fair, Kurt was crushing on him and didn't know how to say no and –"

Blaine stopped listening. Kurt had had a crush on Finn? He mentally shook himself, and carried on.

"Anyway, Rachel, I don't want to ask Finn out, I just- Kurt won't pick up his phone, and I just- really need to speak to him."

As Rachel gave him Finn's number, Blaine scribbled it down hurriedly and bid her goodbye as she went on and on about how perfect Finn was, and how they had so much chemistry. He dialled in the number now on a crumpled piece of paper and called. Nobody picked up. What was it with the Hudmel's household and not picking up their phones? Then, he caught sight of the time on the alarm clock by his bed. It was nearing midnight. He wondered why Rachel had picked up the phone. He looked over at David and Wes, who were looking as blank as he was. Now all they could do was wait. Perhaps in the morning, they would have more luck.

Blaine lay in bed, guilt flooding his insides as he replayed their argument in his head. He had been totally out of line. Tears were falling fast now, sideways into his pillow.

_"Kurt,"_ he whispered into the darkness. "Kurt, please forgive me."

* * *

**Review please :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

**Still revising.. :( BUT soon exam week will be over, and I will be able to write some more. Enjoy, my dear readers!**

**BTW Props and Nationals! WERE! CRAZYYY!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee  
**

* * *

Kurt woke up, shoulders aching, in the backseat of his Navigator. He sat up, stretched and hauled himself into the driver's seat. He had a long day of driving ahead of him. He leaned over and grabbed his jacket which he had tossed to the side before falling asleep. After a few hours of wearing it, he felt connected to it somehow. He had only worn it once before, during the week in which he pretended to be straight to get closer to his father. He remembered the other clothes he had worn that week, and unconsciously shuddered. They had felt so different on him, and yet this leather jacket had grown on him. He almost felt as if it was a part of him. He looked down at the other clothes that he had bought the night before. The muscle shirt was very flattering, and the jeans he was wearing clung to him, although not quite like the skinny jeans he had been accustomed to wearing. He felt so comfortable like this. He didn't have to care about the latest fashions, all he needed were a few touches to make him look good.

He yawned, while doing so spotting a motel but not stopping. He had passed Ohio's borders some miles back, having driven well into the night. It had filled him with satisfaction to see 'You are now leaving Ohio' as he headed out, not in the direction of New York as he had decided on in the first place, as that was as predictable as it could get. He needed a place that was anti-Kurt, that nobody would think he'd go to. That was how he had found himself on the long highway stretching down to Miami, with no intent on driving back.

* * *

The next morning, Blaine pressed dial on his phone before even opening his eyes. Kurt's same voicemail went on and he sighed. He went to the bathroom and caught sight of his face. Tear tracks trailed in every direction, as he had tossed and turned throughout the whole night. He glanced at his alarm clock. 9 AM. He looked through his recent calls and pressed 'Call' at the unfamiliar number; Finn's. A sleepy Finn answered him, sounding baffled.

"Hello. Finn? This is Blaine; I got your number from Rachel."

"Hey Blaine, what's up? And why couldn't it wait till morning?" came Finn's voice blearily.

"It _is _morning Finn! Finn, is Kurt there? I really need to talk to him!"

"What? No, dude, Kurt's staying at Dalton for the weekend."

Blaine's blood ran cold.

"N-no, he d-didn't come back last night." He stuttered, fear overcoming him. Finn's voice came back clearer, and it seemed like he had really woken up.

"_What?"_

Finn sat up, straight as a board at Blaine's words. He fell out of bed and tripped over Puck, who had been sprawled on the floor. Puck made a disgruntled noise, but rubbed his eyes and sat up when he saw how panicked his best friend was. And when Finn was panicky, he was clumsy. He watched as Finn attempted to stand up, but tripped over his own feet, slamming into the door. Puck got up and grabbed the phone. Finn watched his eyes widen as he heard Blaine's voice come through, sounding just as worried as he felt. They hurtled out of the room and into Kurt's room. The pile on the floor remained as it had been yesterday, and Kurt's bed remained made and unslept in. Finn tore the mobile from Puck's hands and held it to ear.

"Listen, Blaine, I'll try calling him, he might pick up if it's me." Blaine gave a choked sound, and Finn took it as agreement. He ended the call and called Kurt's mobile number. As he heard the ring, he looked up at Puck in horror as he heard the ringtone that Kurt had set for him coming from somewhere in the room. Wherever Kurt was, he hadn't taken his phone. Puck sprang to life, looking for the source of the ringtone, 'Jesse's Girl'. As he turned to the mess on the floor that they had created the previous night, he began sifting through pages and books until he reached the bottom. Finn looked around Puck who had frozen, still kneeling, with three things in his hands; an iPhone, a photograph, and a DVD.

Finn stared at him as he read what was on the photograph. Even he wasn't so dumb as to have no clue what was going on. He raised the phone to his ear and called Blaine. He had to come over.

* * *

Blaine whipped around at the sound of his phone ringing. He had called Wes and David back to his dorm room after his conversation with Finn. He felt numb as Finn explained what they had found. Finn's voice was shaky as he told Blaine that he wouldn't watch the DVD until Blaine had got there. Blaine rushed out of his dorm room, not even bothering to change, still in sweatpants and a Dalton issue T-Shirt. Wes and David followed. David had never sped that much in his life.

* * *

Puck was unsure of what to do. His best friend stood there in shock, and he had no hell's way of knowing how to deal with him. He cleared his throat.

"Hey dude, didn't Santana call last night?" Finn nodded, then handed over the phone to Puck. He couldn't speak, and besides, Puck knew what to say. Puck dialled, and when Santana called, he didn't greet her.

"Tan, you need to get down here. Stat. We think Hummel's done a runner. Bring anyone you can."

Finn's eyes were widened even more, and even Puck winced. They hadn't stated it aloud. It made it seem horribly real. Half an hour later, Santana arrived at the door accompanied by Tina, Sam, Mercedes and Brittany. She didn't even insult the two of them, just pushed past them until she had a hold of the three objects. She went to put the DVD in, but Puck held out a hand.

"We told Anderson we'd wait for him to come first. We don't know what's on it, but we think he should see it if not before us, then at least with us."

Santana made a move as though to protest, but Mercedes held her back. The dark-skinned girl hadn't said a word; she was merely clutching onto Tina, who looked like she would burst into tears at any moment. Santana nodded, looking up at Puck.

"We called some other people too, just so you knows."

Sure enough, the rest of the New Directions filed into the house and crowded in Kurt's room. Quinn was looking pale, and Artie wheeled in without greeting anybody. Rachel was looking around wide eyed, and terrified. They had been filled in by Sam when they walked in. The blonde boy kept looking out of the window, looking helpless.

Finally, after twenty minutes of silence and waiting, Blaine and the two Warblers came barging into the room. Finn and Blaine exchanged a look of worry, and then Santana leaned forward to press play. They crowded around Kurt's computer to watch.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

**Exams are over! Getting results this week.. eep! I might be a bit behind schedule for the next few chapters as I am unsure as to where I am next going with this, I have a rough idea but not really sure how to put it into words. So yeah, enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee.**

* * *

Blaine stood in shock as the video drew to an end. His emotions were all mixed, sorrow, anger, shock, longing.. Wait, _longing? _He didn't know what to do when he heard Kurt confess his love for him. He ducked his head as he felt the stares of everyone in the room on him. Although, it didn't make him feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would. Hearing Kurt tell him that he loved him, felt.. right. His anger flared up when he heard Kurt's warning about Karofsky, and guilt washed over him _again _as he remembered the fight he had had with Kurt. As he buried his face in his hands, he realised it was wet. He hadn't noticed that he had been crying. Who knew where Kurt was now?

_I'm leaving Lima.._ Blaine looked at the clock on Kurt's old bedside cabinet. It was now close to 11. If Kurt had left before Finn had gotten home, he would be well out of Lima by now. Probably even out of Ohio.

He felt lost. He was angry at Kurt for thinking those things about himself, furious at himself for not noticing, for being so oblivious, for not realising that he loved Kurt until it was too late. Because he knew it now. Hearing Kurt voice it out loud made him realise how he felt the same way, for what else, apart from love could make him feel as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, leaving him with an empty chest. Kurt had left, probably gone to New York to fulfil his dreams, and he had taken Blaine's heart with him. These feelings and realizations swirled around his mind, clouding his vision, and he felt his legs collapse beneath him, as all went dark.

* * *

Rachel watched Kurt singing, his emotions raw and in his glistening eyes. She felt her own eyes fill up again. It was her fault. She had been her usual selfish self, always assuming the worst. Why on earth would Kurt want to steal their setlist? He had needed somebody, and she, as his friend should have been there. Instead, she rejected him, making the others follow her lead. Though, to think of it, she hadn't been much of a friend. She had taken every solo from him, when, hearing his voice now, he _deserved _them. His talent was emanating from him. She had dated his true love, even though she knew that Kurt and Blaine were made for each other. And for what? Vaguely Eurasian looking kids? She was in high school! Kurt had been bullied for as long as she could remember, and she had done nothing to stop it. And he had been harassed, _again _while mourning his mother, and she had made him feel unwanted.

She could never forgive herself for this. Kurt was the most amazing person she had ever met, and she had practically driven him out of Ohio. _He's most definitely going to New York _she thought. _That's where his dreams lie. He'll be a huge Broadway star, and own a giant fashion line, and have it all. He deserves it. _She bowed her head as the video ended, unable to hold in her shaking sobs any longer. They shook her whole body, and she fell onto Kurt's bed, breathing in the scent of him that remained in his pillow.

* * *

Santana watched the video, glaring at everybody as Kurt mentioned them. She stared especially hard at Blaine. It wasn't a secret that Kurt loved him, and that hobbit had destroyed all of Kurt's hopes. From what she could gather, they had had an argument. Her gaze softened slightly, however, as she saw how broken the short tenor was at Kurt's departure. And she could blame Rachel all she wanted, for making Kurt feel unwanted and rejected, she could claw Karofsky's face off and beat up every bit of him she could reach, she could threaten all the bullies that had _ever _touched her boy, but she knew, inside, that she was to blame.

While Kurt had been on the Cheerios, they had formed a bond, and she had confided in him, knowing him to be the most trustworthy person ever, and the most amazing. He was the only person who knew that she was gay, with his way of seeing right through people, despite her defences. He was the only one who saw through her defensive walls, like he had X Ray vision, and knew the real Santana Lopez inside. The only other person who knew her was Brittany, but that was only because Santana had let her walls come down for her, she had never been so analysed by anyone except Kurt.

She wished she could have focussed the same interest onto him. The poor kid helped _everyone _but he had nobody to see his insecurities. Blaine had been that person last year, but Kurt had built up walls to block even him out, as Blaine had become part of Kurt's issues.

But most of all, Santana wished she had done something sooner the night before. He was there! Right in front of her, and she had let him go. It was her fault. It had to be. She curled in on herself and didn't even try to stop the tears. She let the sobs wash over her, and thought of the friend, the confidante that she had lost.

* * *

Mercedes hid her face in her hands as she watched the video. She had been Kurt's best friend, and she had made him feel unwelcome, unwanted. She and Kurt had drifted apart after he had joined Dalton, the occasional sleepover, but those had been spent talking mostly about her. Mercedes should have realised how closed off he was getting. She clutched onto Tina who was also silently crying. She had helped send him on his way. She had failed her Boo.

* * *

Puck stared at the screen-Kurt with an expressionless look on his face. Inside, though he was in a rage, at Karofsky for starting all this shit in the first place, at Kurt for leaving, but most of all, at himself. Why couldn't he do anything right? He would have beaten the crap out of Karofsky, but had the threat of juvie hanging over him. He began questioning everything about himself. Why the hell did he think it was a good idea to steal an ATM in the first place? Did he think that would make him more of a man? _No _he thought. _Kurt had taught me more about being a man than anyone. I don't like it, but I don't blame him for leaving. _He sighed in frustration and punched the wall of Kurt's (old?) bedroom.

* * *

Sam listened to Kurt's voice soar, high and beautiful, despite the tears running down the countertenor's face. He mentally cursed himself, for the millionth time, for allowing Kurt to back away from the chance at a duet with him. He had regretted it, although had been awed at Kurt's immense talent at 'Le Jazz Hot'. Only Kurt would manage to do a duet on his own. At this thought, Sam felt another pang of guilt. _That's the point. Nobody should have to. _At the mention of Karofsky, he frowned at the screen. Another thing he had regretted. Not doing as well of a job as he could have at protecting Kurt. Karofsky had been against three guys, and Sam had come out with a black eye. He shuddered to think of what Kurt, a boy half the size of the football player had to endure. Sam shook his head sadly. _If only…_

* * *

Finn was shaking as the video ended. He was shaking with rage, with fear, with guilt. Karofsky had hurt Kurt on the anniversary of his mother's death? He could kill that guy! His step-brother was all alone, facing the world, _alone._

_Be the straight son that he deserved. _Finn scrunched up his face. He should have realised! Burt meant everything to Kurt, no matter what he said, he wasn't completely okay with Finn and Burt's relationship. Immediately, Finn felt like a complete idiot. He loved Burt, he was the best father figure he could have ever asked for, and he had known that Kurt was always a bit jealous of that. But he also loved Kurt, the little dude was so cool, and Finn enjoyed having a little brother (although Kurt would protest that he was _older) _that he could protect, and have 'lady chats' (which Finn actually really enjoyed) with while drinking warm milk. He also loved convincing Kurt to play COD with him, because although he looked feminine, even Puck agreed that Kurt could kick serious ass.

And now Kurt was gone. Even Finn knew that Kurt would be way out of Lima by now. If he hadn't been so _clumsy _the day before, or so lazy, and just picked up the pile of papers and textbooks, now left abandoned on the floor, he could have found everything sooner. He bent down and fell on his bottom with an awkward thump. He picked up Kurt's phone, and unlocked it. It opened on his recent calls. _Dad _it read. Finn's heart sunk. How was he supposed to explain this to Burt?

He brought his knees up to his chest and laid his head on them sideways. His anger from earlier ebbed away, and sorrow replaced it. Before he could stop it, a tear slowly trailed down his face and onto the knee of his jeans.

* * *

Wes and David looked at each other. They had failed. Kurt was gone, and there was no way of contacting him. David's face was a mixture of anger and grief. Wes' face was riddled with guilt. After hearing the song, the emotions shown through it, Wes felt absolutely terrible for refusing the diva a solo. He had always known that he had stage presence, but watching him sing a farewell song brought on an epiphany for him, and it was far too late.

Wes cast his eyes downward. He had noticed Kurt getting quieter and more withdrawn from their Warbler meetings, but took it as a good sign, that Kurt was fitting in. To think that he had made the brunette feel like he wasn't needed, that was like taking a knife to the heart. They hadn't had a countertenor in years, and Wes had, as Head Council Member, not only silenced his voice, but also his spirit. He grabbed onto David and they each buried their face into the shoulder of the other. They only wished that wherever Kurt would go, he would have someone to hold.

* * *

**Next up, Burt's reaction. DUN DUN DUUUUUUN!**

**Please review!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter 8 for you guys! Burt's reaction, as promised :) (or should it be :( ...?)  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee  
**

* * *

Miles away, in a cabin that he had booked for he and Carole's weekend away, Burt checked his phone for the tenth time. He tried not to brood over his last conversation with Kurt. Although, he was worried. On the rare occasion that he and Kurt had an argument, he would allow Kurt some time to calm down, then prepare to call him and insist on talking it out. Every time without fail, however, Kurt would call _him _to apologize, even when he wasn't in the wrong. Burt still didn't know what Kurt had been so intent on talking to him about, but he knew that he shouldn't have treated Kurt like that. His blood ran cold as he thought of the possibilities. Kurt could have been being bullied again. He tried to think positively, and pressed speed dial 1, Kurt's mobile number. Although his wife should probably have taken that place, Kurt was the most important person in the world to Burt, and this was just a tiny way of demonstrating that.

He sighed resignedly as he heard the ringing, preparing himself to deal with upset-Kurt. Make that _really_ upset-Kurt if he hadn't called Burt yet.

"Dad?"

Burt frowned.

"Finn?" The teenager only called him 'Dad' when he was upset. It showed how vlnerable he was, usually, he called him Burt, or even, sometimes 'Dude'.

"Finn, what's wrong, buddy? And why are you on Kurt's phone?" Burt was starting to panic. What the hell was going on?

"Honey?" Carole called out as she poked her head around the door of the bedroom. Burt was sitting on the bed, on the phone, eyes wide and growing paler by the second.

"Burt, what's going on?" She thought she could hear Finn's voice through the phone. Burt didn't answer, but shot up as soon as the call ended and began packing. Carole knew not to ask questions just yet, the fact that Burt hadn't said anything to her yet meant that he was too worried to have realised she was there. She grabbed her own bag and helped him. She knew that Burt Hummel wouldn't cut a weekend short for just anything. This thought, instead of relieving her, just increased her own worrying ten-fold.

* * *

Kurt was exhausted. He had driven for, well, _ages_, and he had only slept for about five hours. In the back of his car. He was nearing his destination. Where exactly that was, he had no idea, but he knew he was getting closer to Miami. Throughout the whole of his journey he had focussed hiss mind on other things, the road, his posture, making sure that when he sang along to the radio he sang in his lower register. Now, on the seemingly never-ending road, he allowed his mind to wonder.

He thought of his family and all those he left behind. He thought of Blaine Anderson, the handsome lead singer he had hastily fallen for. And, for the first time since his leaving, he felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He wasn't sad to have left, or resentful towards them for forcing him to leave. Far from it, he was grateful that they had given him the chance to move on from his life. The sense of adventure, the wind rippling through his unkempt hair as he sped along the highway, under a bright blue, never-ending sky. This was where he belonged.

* * *

Burt Hummel barged through the door of his own, storming towards his son's bedroom. A few seconds later, his wife hurried behind him scurrying up the stairs as he took them two at a time. He opened the door to find the New Directions, Blaine, and two other boys wearing Dalton blazers, sitting and looking solemn. Burt's eyes fell on his stepson who shot up from the floor at the sight of them and hugged his mother tight. Finn eventually pulled away as Burt's frustration grew and he turned frightened eyes onto his step-father.

"There. Press play." He croaked. Burt sat at the desk, Carole standing behind him. The New Directions, Blaine, Wes and David all closed their eyes, as Kurt's high smooth voice filled the air once more.

Burt swore he could feel his already damaged heart breaking a bit more with every word Kurt spoke through the speakers of his computer. As the last few notes of Kurt's goodbye song and his last message died out, Burt swore loudly, not caring that he was in a room full of shell-shocked teenagers, he got up and hurled his fist through the wall. He heard a cracking noise, and the sound of breaking plaster. He was livid, heartbroken and completely confused. As he clenched and unclenched his uninjured fist, he felt a sense of helplessness fill him. He wanted to feel angry, to blame everyone else for the parting of his son, but he knew that he was also to blame. This realization filled him with bitter disappointment in himself. He could vaguely feel someone's arms around his shoulders, but he didn't acknowledge them, as he felt himself lose control, and cry, stopping only to draw great shuddering breaths. To cry in a way that he had only cried in once before, at his late wife Elizabeth's funeral.

* * *

ONE WEEK LATER

Burt opened the metal blinds of his garage, squinting a little as the sun got into his weak, sleep-deprived eyes. The past week had been spent at the emergency room, after having mildly fractured his finger, being held by a softly weeping Carole as he sobbed himself to a restless sleep, and in Finn's bedroom, playing video games and watching football with the New Directions boys, anything to distract himself while the girls and Carole discussed what they were going to do about Kurt.

The New Directions and Blaine had been staying at his house after that fateful day when they had replayed the last of Kurt's words to them. They had decided that it was too late for them to drive home, but each had found it too comfortable or reassuring to leave. Burt was grateful for the extra company, even though Kurt boarded at Dalton, and was normally absent from the Hudmel house five days a week anyway, Burt found the house too empty without him. Hell, even now, with fourteen extra people staying, he still found it too empty, but less so, as he remembered how these people would brighten up his son's day, how it was due to them that he hadn't done something like this sooner, that he battled on. It was strange to think that now as he was reminded of their pale expressionless faces as they forced smiles and conversations.

They had decided to not report Kurt's disappearance to the police. Burt was reluctant at first, but agreed when Rachel and Carole reminded him of Kurt's resoluteness; if he wanted to leave without a trace, he would, and no doubt do it properly. A couple of 'Missing' posters weren't going to change that.

Burt looked at the dank garage, his eyes resting on the telephone. With a jolt of his stomach, he remembered the last call he had received on it and turned to leave. He wasn't ready for this yet.

* * *

**Aww poor Burt! The story can continue more smoothly from here, now that they have all watched it :) So what did you think? Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:**

**Aaand half term is over :( I just wanted to thank all you guys for the A-mazing response you all gave me, Argument has 91 reviews already, but I'm greedy, I want more :3  
**

**Enjoyy!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee. I wish I did. But I don't.  
**

* * *

Carole looked around the kitchen at the faces of the girls of the New Directions. They were currently discussing what they were going to do about Blaine. The poor boy had become thoroughly distressed and had insisted on staying in Kurt's room all day. He hadn't vacated it once in the entire week he had been there. Bowls of cold soup and soggy cereal littered the desk and floor, all untouched. Blaine had his face stuck in Kurt's pillow and had been crying the whole time.

_He's torturing himself _thought Carole sadly. She thought back to his first night there, when she had awoken to get Burt a cup of water; he was bound to get dehydrated with the amount of crying he had done. On her way up, she passed by each of the rooms; the living room, to find the girls huddled up together under one blanket, teartracks staining all their faces, Finn's room to find Finn and Puck sharing a bed, Mike and Artie holding hands and Sam on his own, rocking from side to side to find comfort. She smiled at the thought of Kurt's reaction were he to see this sight, but stopped at the pain that filled her when she thought of her step-son.

Her last detour was to said step-son's bedroom, when she closed her eyes as his faint aroma filled her nostrils. His aroma was sweet, and slightly musky and the mere sniff of it could make you feel as if you were enveloped in one of his magical hugs. When she had opened her eyes, she frowned to see an empty bed where Blaine had been earlier that evening. Heart sinking at the thought of the loss of someone else, she turned when she heard a small sniffling noise, and opened the door of Kurt's closet, to find Blaine sitting at the back of it, where Kurt's aroma was strongest, surrounded by the clothes that had demonstrated his individuality, and sobbing lightly. Carole had sat down next to him and pulled him onto her lap, as a fresh wave of sobs came over him. She rocked him from side to side and cried with him, as he buried his face into her shoulder, hand grabbing at the back of her dressing gown as if a desperate hold on comfort.

* * *

A week, two weeks, and even a month later, and there had been no news or sign as to where Kurt may be. The members of the New Directions had stayed at the Hudmel household for two weeks, they would have stayed longer, but, as they were reminded by their parents, they had homes of their own to go to.

Burt and Carole were sad to see them leave. Looking after other people's kids almost made them forget about the one that they had lost.

It wasn't until all the teenagers had left, until Burt and Carole really noticed the one that had been left behind. Blaine Anderson remained with them, after the New Directions had left, he had emerged from the room he had been inhabiting, (though Carole wouldn't call it that, more like existing in) to talk to them after dinner. He had spoken tentatively, his face directed at the carpet as he explained how he had received a call from his parents the night before, them having received a letter from Dalton Academy. They were furious once they had heard that he hadn't been going to school, them having assumed he had boarded there for the past weekends, and realized that the letter suspending him from the boarding school for his absence wasn't a mistake.

Burt at first, had looked confused as to why Blaine was telling them this, although indignant on the boy's behalf. It was Carole who had caught the look in the boy's hazel eyes as he raised his head momentarily to look at Burt, and her heart ached for the boy standing in front of her. She wrapped her arms around him.

"Blaine, of course you can stay here, we'll get your things from Dalton tomorrow, and we'll fix up the spare room for you. On Monday, Burt will take you to McKinley, and we'll get you transferred, unless, is there somewhere else you'd rather go? I'm afraid McKinley is the closest, but we can.." her voice trailed off as he squeezed her back tight, and then let go, his eyes fixed all the time at Burt, in question.

Burt cleared his throat, he had had no idea what the boy had been getting at earlier, but now that he understood, he would do anything to help him. Burt nodded.

"Welcome to the Hudmel family, son," he said, smiling properly for the first time in what felt like decades. Blaine's eyes darted from Burt to Carole, and back again, as if he expected it to be a joke. When he found that it wasn't, he launched himself at Burt, who hugged him back, just happy to hold someone for once.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a tiny studio flat in Miami, Kurt Hummel began opening the crisp, white envelope in his hands. The envelope itself fell to the floor, as Kurt got it open and took out its contents. He didn't read the letter; just grabbed the plastic card attached to it, and brought it closer to his face to examine. It was his photograph, taken just after he had arrived at the sunny city. All his details had been changed around, and, as Kurt looked at the small numbers, he realized that he had to memorize them if he was going to pull this off convincingly.

He couldn't even remember how he had come to acquire it, he just remembered meeting a guy who knew a guy, who knew a guy, this guy apparently helped people in his position 'start fresh with their lives'. Kurt had been hesitatant at first, but decided to go for it, relishing the fact that his former self wouldn't have dreamed of doing such a thing. Now, his new ID sat in his hands, and his eyes trailed over the detail that would perhaps take the longest to get used to, the name. The man had suggested that Kurt keep his first two initials, to make it easier on himself. Now, he looked at the two words _Kevin Hunter. _He felt empowered. This was the final puzzle piece in his new life. The details were all in place. He had gotten a job as a junior mechanic a week previously, and the money was enough to keep him living in the small apartment. Kurt – no, _Kevin _smiled to himself. Everything was turning out right for once in his life.

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**And another reminder right here to reviewww... :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:**

**Hey! This was quite an emotional chapter for me to write. I think from now the story will have a faster pace, as I realize that it took me nine chapters for Kurt to become Kevin. Oops. Oh well. Hope you like it anyway!  
**

**And hey! We reached 105 reviews. Thanks guys!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee. If I did, it would never have stopped. :(  
**

* * *

A lot had changed in the months following Kurt's disappearance. Both the New Directions and the Dalton Academy Warblers lost at Regionals, the Warblers for the loss of their countertenor and lead singer, the New Directions for the loss of their family member. After Regionals, however, things were starting to return to normal, though there was still some tension in the air whenever Kurt's name was mentioned. This, unsurprisingly was only done by Brittany, who although sad, did not understand why everybody acted as if Kurt hadn't existed.

Blaine was adjusting to William McKinley and life at the Hudmel household. After two months of solid grieving, and a visit from Wes and David, he decided to man up and resume his life where it had come to a standstill. Although reluctant at first, Blaine joined the New Directions after much persuasion from Finn, but as of yet, he hadn't sung a single song. He merely allowed himself to be surrounded by friends, and feel protected while in the public school environment.

* * *

Kevin Hunter loved life in Miami. His job paid fairly well, enough for his rent and bills with enough left over to save. Kevin wasn't stupid, he knew how reckless he could be perceived as, being in a new state and not having to depend on anyone, and he saved his money in case of emergency, like if he was evicted from his tiny apartment. Deep down, in the remaining Kurt Hummel part of himself, Kevin knew that he would eventually return to Lima, but he liked to think that that was way ahead in the future; right now he would live his life to the max, not thinking about the future apart from what he was going to have for dinner that day. All he cared about at that point was that he was living a stable life, focussing on the present, and trying not to dwell too much on his past.

* * *

The first package arrived a day after Burt's birthday. They had had a small and subdued family dinner, Carole trying very hard to lighten the mood by clapping and singing enthusiastically. She had bought a cake, as she knew that Kurt used to bake a cake on his father's birthday, and didn't want to reawaken any memories. However, she saw his face fall as she brought it in, before he plastered on a huge smile and hugged her tight. She noticed his laughter was a little too loud, his smiles very forced. He thanked them all too much for the gifts that they had given him, but his head kept turning to the little display cabinet at the corner of the living room. It was filled with model cars, and Carole knew that it was a tradition established between father and son, since Elizabeth had died and Kurt no longer had any help buying gifts, that Kurt would get Burt one of these antiques every birthday. The cabinet was relatively empty, only filled with eight models, each unique. Carole had no idea where Kurt had bought them, all she knew was that Kurt must have been a very dedicated son to find these personal presents for his father. This thought both warmed and hurt Carole's heart.

It had come by courier. It was left on the doorstep according to the mailman, who had brought a few birthday cards for Burt that hadn't arrived on time. She set them all out for Burt at the kitchen table and began making breakfast. Blaine came down first and, smiling at her, kissed her cheek before sitting down at the chair adjacent to Burt's at the head of the table. Carole looked at him fondly. He had taken to living with them very well indeed, and he was really becoming one of the family now. He seemed awed at the conversations they could have, and the general atmosphere that was the Hudmel household. Carole rather thought he hadn't ever experienced a proper family dinner. The look on his face when they had enquired about his day was almost comical, if it hadn't been so heart-breaking. He took to calling them 'Carole' and 'Burt' rather than Mr and Mrs Hummel, and was becoming closer to Carole in a way she didn't think was possible after Kurt. He was comfortable around them, and she was so glad that she could make him so.

Burt greeted them as he walked into the kitchen and sat down at his seat. He took a sip of his coffe as he opened one of the envelopes one handed and read the thoughtful birthday message written inside. Yesterday had hurt more than he ever thought it would, not having Kurt there. For so long it had been just he and Kurt, and it hurt him to realize that there was a chance that that would never happen again. All last night his eyes had been drawn to the models in the corner (and he and Kurt had frequently made a joke of that phrase) and all he could think about was how they would never fill the cabinet. With this rather depressing thought in mind, Burt opened the other cards, finally bringing his attention to the package. He suspected that it was a gift from his mother, who lived in Boston, and opened it, preparing himself for another terrible present. Living with Kurt so long meant he had gotten used to good taste. He opened the flaps, and pulled out the tissue paper covering the gift. He stared down at it, brain not quite registering what he was seeing, and then he choked. Blaine jumped backwards as Burt began coughing violently, face turning red, but eyes still fixed on the package still resting at the side of the plate of pancakes that Carole had brought him.

He cleared his throat after much effort, and wiped his eyes, though from the coughing fit he had just had or not, he wasn't sure. Lying in the box was a _beautiful _limited edition Ferrari Enzo diecast model car. It was white, with so much detail in it, that Burt couldn't speak for a moment. He just sat there, with this model in his hands, speechless. Carole's eyes were fixed on his face, and Blaine's were flicking between his face to the car. They were both waiting for his reaction, but he said nothing.

Finn came bounding down the stairs, seemingly not noticing the silence in the kitchen, and said, "Hey, cool car, can I see it?"

Without waiting for an answer, he lifted it from Burt's hands, as he sat there, still in shock. Finn began opening the doors, and exclaimed delightedly when he realized that you could 'drive' the car by steering the wheel. He opened the boot of the car, and his eyebrows furrowed. There was a note folded neatly placed at the bottom of the empty space. Finn took it out and handed it to Burt who's eyes had widened at the sight of the note. Hands shaking, he took it, unfolded it, and began to read, Blaine and Carole peering over his shoulder.

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**Hehe. Sorry about the cliffhanger guys, I just couldn't resist :) Revieww **


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:**_  
_

**Hey! Sorry this chapter is a bit of a filler chapter - I have writer's block :( I know where I _want _to go, just not _how _to get there...  
**

**Hope you like it!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee.  
**

* * *

_I'm sorry._

_Happy Birthday. I couldn't bear to give up our tradition._

_I hope you're okay. All of you._

_K.H_

The note was handwritten, and at first glance, Burt could tell that it was Kurt who had written it. He read and reread it, eyes frantically searching for a sign that he could have missed, something to indicate where his son could be. But there wasn't. A strangled cry escaped his throat as he fell against his wife, acknowledging then, that he had never gotten over the loss of his son.

* * *

It had been expensive. Kevin had spent almost all his pay check on the model, but he knew that his dad deserved it. He wasn't sure how long it would take to get there, and was annoyed when the man he had paid to drop off the package called to tell him it was a day late. He had opted for a courier service rather than regular postage as the postage stamp would have given his location away. No matter how much Kevin missed Burt Hummel, he wasn't ready to go back.

Kevin looked out onto the streets of Miami, and behind them, the glittering blue ocean. A breeze ruffled his hair through the open window. It was almost summer. Kevin was looking forward to it. Summer in Lima was far from amazing. He remembered coming home from the garage with his dad one day to find their lawn furniture nailed to the roof. He remembered the profanities spray painted on his door, written on bricks that were thrown at his windows and hissed at him through anonymous phone calls. He remembered that lonely summer in his freshman year when he was so ready to end it all…

This summer would be different. He had secured two weeks of paid leave from his employers to take advantage of the gorgeous Miami weather, to spend some time on the sandy beaches, and maybe _finally _tan a little. His physical features had already changed vastly since his moving to Florida. He had lost the last bit of baby fat, and now muscle was peeking out from behind the pale skin covering his chest. His hair had grown out a little and turned lighter from the constant sun. In all fairness, he _had _tanned a bit; his skin wasn't as deathly pale as it was before, and the pink flush that had covered his cheeks had disappeared. To those who knew him as Kurt Hummel, he was almost unrecognizable. It didn't help that his clothes and manner had done a complete 180. He no longer strutted but walked lazily, he slouched when he sat rather than crossing his legs, and he spoke in his lower register.

Kevin sighed contentedly, a small smile playing at his lips, as he realized how far he had come.

* * *

It had been a month since Burt's birthday. A month since the arrival of the model car, and the note from his son. Right now Burt was just frustrated. He had long since given up trying to find out the other reasons for Kurt's departure, as Blaine would close himself off whenever Kurt was mentioned, and the rest of the New Directions didn't know either. Burt had taken to watching his son's farewell video again and again, hoping to catch some new information – until Carole had hidden the CD, stating that he was just hurting himself by rewatching it.

There wasn't much that could be done about David Karofsky (although he and all the boys from the New Directions had gone missing for a while, and when they returned, he was sporting a black eye and several other bruises). The whole school had heard about Kurt's disappearance, and this fact seemed to make people more aware of the bullying that had been going on. Fewer slushies were thrown now, and hardly anything was heard from the jocks now. It was ironic that it took Kurt leaving for the school to become a safer environment, and how Burt _hated _irony.

* * *

Mr Schuester sighed as he tried, yet again to gain the attention of his restless class. The Glee club was admittedly better than it had been for a few months, although their failure to proceed at Regional meant that there was little for them to do for the next few weeks. Mr Schue looked around, where the girls were huddled, discussing prom, and the guys on the other side of the choir room talking about some newly released video games. In the middle of the room sat Blaine, gazing at the floor, not even attempting to join in the guys' conversation. Mr Schuester's eyebrows furrowed at this sight. Blaine had been acting so much better lately, but with the prom approaching, he had become more withdrawn, and closed himself off even from Mike and Rachel, who understood him the most from their group. Surprisingly, the only person that he would allow to get close to him was Santana. She was now sitting at the back of the choir room, filing her nails and staring openly at Brittany while the blonde was cheerfully deliberating prom dresses with Tina.

Though Mr Schue seemed quite oblivious, he occasionally picked up on things that the kids were feeling_. Not when it mattered though, _he thought to himself bitterly. Right now, he could read Santana's expression, filled with hurt and want, her eyes following Brittany's exuberant hand gesticulating and smiling a little when Brittany did. He knew about Brittany's choice to stay with Artie, thanks to Miss Holiday filling him in on what had happened while he was in bed with a fever. If asked whose side he was on, Mr Schue would honestly reply that he didn't know. On one hand, he was happy that Santana was embracing herself, and accepting that she could have feelings for someone, rather than sleeping around, but on the other hand, Artie and Brittany were so happy together; he was so good for her and Mr Schue would hate to cause Artie any more unhappiness after Tina.

Mr Schuester allowed them a few more minutes to chat before clapping his hands in an act of enthusiasm and shouting loudly, writing the assignment of that week on the whiteboard.

* * *

The gym was decked out with cheap decorations; filled with the overpowering aroma of excess perfume and sweat, as the students of McKinley High danced awkwardly to the latest released pop song. Santana sat on her own at the New Directions' table, glaring at the back of Artie's wheelchair, as he twirled Brittany. She glowered at her glass of punch, grimacing when she tasted it and taking out a hipflask to at least spike her own drink. She needed alcohol right now.

As she glanced up at the stage, where Rachel was preparing to sing a powerful love ballad, she rolled her eyes. Man-Hands Berry had it so much better than she made it out. She had Finn Hudson (though Santana didn't see the allure of Frankenteen, apart from his quarterback position), she had her voice and her ambition. Santana could admit that of all of them, she could expect Rachel to actually follow her dreams. Well, Rachel and Kurt, but he seemed to be doing it a lot earlier than the rest of them. She smiled to herself as she imagined what Kurt could be doing now; rehearsing for a Broadway musical, designing outfits for his new upcoming fashion name. Whereas she felt bitterness towards Berry for her ambition, she felt pride towards Kurt Hummel. He was so much bigger than Lima anyway.

* * *

In reality, Kevin was sprawled on his front in his apartment, sheet wrinkles on his face from the couch cushion. He yawned and stretched as he woke up, bleary-eyed, and made for the bathroom, where he attempted to put on his jeans while brushing his teeth. Getting them on, he zipped the fly as he rinsed and pulled a t shirt over his head. Heading to the open plan kitchen, he stuffed a couple of biscuits in his mouth, washing them down with some milk straight from the carton. He pulled his boots on and ran out of the door, grabbing his keys as he went. He was lucky that the garage where he worked was five minutes away, as he was already late.

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**Review please! And sorry, the note is a bit disappointing.. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:**

**Helloooo! So this took me ages to get round to writing, I literally write it his morning, my sister sat me down and forced me to.. But I quite like this chapter, I thought it flowed qwuite well, and it's what alot of you wanted. Have NO clue what I'm going to do for the next chapter, but be warned, I'm going on holiday this week, where WiFi is not always guaranteed. I'll try to upload once a week like I always do, but if I can't, then I apologize in advance. Wow. Long author's note. On with ther story!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee.  
**

* * *

Kevin wiped his brow as he got up from the car that he was working on. Only a few more hours until his shift ended and he would have his time off. He stretched his aching muscles, grabbing a spanner from a nearby worktable and returning to work.

* * *

Santana walked into her kitchen to find both her parents sitting at the table, smiling widely. She furrowed her brow in confusion and gave them a questioning look. Her mother was practically buzzing with excitement as her dad looked on with a fond expression on his face. Finally, her mother didn't seem to be able to hold it in any longer and blurted out,

"We're going to Florida!"

Santana raised her eyebrows at her dad. He nodded in agreement.

"Three weeks in Miami! Uncle Evan lent us his beach house. We leave next week."

Santana grinned. Her parents were some of the few people she allowed to see her true self. Just another excited teenager. She hugged her father and kissed her mother on the cheek, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder when it slipped off. As she headed out she turned.

"Hey, can I bring someone?"

"Sure, honey. Whoever you want." Her mother said, smiling warmly at her.

Santana bit her lip to stop an excited squeal from escaping her lips as she walked slowly up the stairs to her bedroom and grabbed the telephone from her bedside table.

* * *

Brittany stretched, having just finished her nightly dance practice. She had the basement bedroom, so her flips didn't disturb the rest of the house. As she bent over backwards, she heard the phone ring. She picked it up, holding it to her ear while still upside down, a trick she had learnt from the rest of the Cheerios, who seemed unable to part from their cell phones even for a few hours, instead risking the wrath of Sue Sylvester.

"Hey Britt,"

Brittany jumped in surprise at the sound of Santana's voice, culminating in the loss of her balance, and she ended up in a heap on the floor.

"Britt? Are you okay?"

Brittany shot up and seized the receiver, holding it to her ear. It had been so long since she had talked to Santana. She had been devastated at the loss of her best friend, but she loved Artie, and truthfully, everything seemed simpler with him. Nevertheless, she still loved Santana and would do anything to hold what was left of their friendship together.

"Santana? Hi! How are you?"

"I'm OK Britt, listen.."

Brittany sat cross-legged on the floor, listening to Santana's proposition. She had no objection to three weeks in Florida, going to the beach, sunbathing, and making it up to her best friend.

"Sure, can't wait!"

* * *

Kevin stretched out on the sand, before getting to his feet and heading towards the glittering blue sea. He barely suppressed a shiver as he walked into the cool water, a wave washing over him. He ducked his head, and then emerged gasping, but feeling refreshed. He swam out, training his stomach muscles, eyes fixed on the horizon. He blocked out the noises from the beach behind him, focussing on his destination, the never-ending distance. When he awoke from his haze, he glanced back to find that he was really far from the shore. Sighing resignedly, he twisted his torso and started doing a powerful stroke back to the beach, fighting against the pull of the waves.

Perhaps he should have realized then, that as adventurous and exciting the life in front of him was, and as difficult as it was to return, his past was where safety and comfort lay.

* * *

Santana opened her eyes when the plane touched land, sighing in relief. She didn't like flying. The only thing that kept her going through the admittedly short plane journey was Brittany's hand in hers, squeezing gently whenever she felt her friend tense up.

The airport afterwards was a blur of looking for suitcases and security, and the next thing Santana knew was that they had arrived at the beach house. It was beautiful, one of those that you only see in Hollywood movies. She and Brittany dumped their bags and ran out onto the white sand. The sun beat down on them as they headed towards the waves, laughing and shrieking as the cold water splashed them.

* * *

Kevin grumbled under his breath as he thought of work the next day. His two weeks' vacation had gone by in a blink of an eye. It had been fantastic. He looked even more unrecognizable now. He had an even, dark tan, and he had decided to leave the stubble that had grown on his chin. His unique coloured eyes twinkled from behind longer hair, which he left messy and untamed.

Now he made himself a bowl of cereal, and collapsed onto the couch, flicking through the channels on his small TV. He might as well enjoy the rest of his holiday while he could.

* * *

Brittany pulled down her sunglasses to look at Santana, who had just come back from a quick swim in the sea. She was shaking her head, water droplets flying everywhere as her hair flicked from side to side. When she had finished, she ran her hands through it and pulled a face.

"Ew. Come on Britt, let's go back inside. I need to take a shower, then we can go around, see if we can spot any hot guys up for a bit of summer lovin'."

Brittany didn't even bother to try and bring up Artie, just smiled and nodded, using Santana's outstretched hand to haul herself up. She might not be interested in cute guys, but she was looking forward to going shopping around the town, and just generally looking around.

When they had got to the house, she sent a quick text to Artie, and then looked around for something else to wear, deciding on a yellow halter neck top and white shorts. She teamed these with her white wedges and styled her hair in a messy updo. When she was satisfied, she called across the hall to Santana, who linked arms with her, and lead her to her uncle's car. They climbed in, and Santana started the car. They didn't really have a destination; Santana was just driving aimlessly, around the town. Whenever either of them spotted something they wanted to see, Santana would park the car at the side of the road and they would get out, take a few pictures, or look around a sale that was going on. There were surprisingly a lot of parking spaces for a crowded town, and Brittany was grateful for that. Santana was known to get snippy when she didn't get what she wanted, and, sitting in full power of a deadly vehicle, Brittany wouldn't have felt safe. That was, until the car started making strange noises.

* * *

Santana swore as yet another gurgle escaped the car. She slammed her hand on the dashboard in frustration, and somehow this triggered a reaction. Smoke poured out of the hood of the car, and the smell of rotten eggs filled their nostrils. Santana swore again, slamming her head on the steering wheel, the horn honking loudly.

Brittany silently handed her the cell phone while rummaging through the glove compartment. Santana looked at her, mouth open in confusion. As Brittany handed her a business card of a nearby mechanic, she shut her mouth promptly, watching the look of amusement on Brittany's normally blank face. Santana laughed, and dialled the number, shaking her head at her friend.

* * *

"Hey Kevin,"

Kevin looked up at Mr Harris, his boss, who was currently grabbing his keys and climbing into his pick-up truck.

"Yeah, Mr H?"

"I'm gonna go pick up a car that's on the main street, can you finish up this paperwork, then start on Mrs Rodriguez' car."

"Sure thing, Mr H."

Mr Harris saluted him and drove out of the garage. Kevin looked back down at the paperwork, getting immersed in the numbers. The next time he looked up was when he heard voices in the empty garage once again. Mr Harris walked in, looking harried, accompanied by two very familiar girls, one pretty blonde girl, and one beautiful dark haired Latina who was currently bitching at Mr Harris.

"Kevin!" Mr Harris looked relieved to see him still there.

"Could you please take care of Ms Lopez' car, I'll take care of the rest of the paperwork."

Kevin looked back at him with wide eyes. Mr H was staring at him pleadingly, nodding his head at the two girls who had fallen quiet by now. Kevin nodded, and Mr Harris hurried off, leaving Kevin alone in the company of Brittany S. Pierce and Santana Lopez.

* * *

**Oh how I love cliffhangers.. I am so excited for the next part of this story and I haven't written it yet..**

**Review please!  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:**

**So I'm dying here. There is no internet where I'm staying, until now, I suppose, and it could go at any moment. So you guys best be grateful that I'm using my possibly limited time uploading this..  
**

**I quite like this chapter, and I've got a pretty good idea where I'm going from here.  
**

**Just wanted to warn you that there's a chance I won't be able to upload because of the aforementioned reason.  
**

**Thank youu, and revieww :)  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee  
**

* * *

Kevin gulped audibly as he eyed the two girls. Santana especially was looking at him with an odd gleam in her eye – something he had never seen before. For the first time, Kevin questioned his cover. Yes, he looked very different, but that could be because he was used to looking like his old self, like Kurt Hummel. Perhaps he only looked different to the trained eye. After all, he still roughly had the same physical features, the same slightly upturned nose, and elfin-looking ears. He still had the defined cheekbones, and the unique glasz eyes. If there was anything that would give him away it would be the eyes he had inherited from his mother, most people he encountered told him that they had never seen anything like them.

Kevin cleared his throat, realizing just then that the three had been standing in silence. He brought his arm up, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.

"So.. What seems to be the problem?"

Once Santana started described the sounds the car had been making, Kevin's shoulders relaxed where they had been tense as he found something he had knowledge of to talk about. He spoke quickly, not looking her in the eyes so as to not give her a chance to ask him any questions – he didn't know if he could trust himself not to just stand there mouthing wordlessly at this reminder of his past.

* * *

Santana gaped at the man standing in front of her. She almost forgot to tell him what had happened to her uncle's car as she raked her eyes over his body appreciatively. Once she had described the noises the car had been making, he started talking animatedly and gesticulating his hands wildly. It was familiar, though she could not place her finger on it. She looked up at him where he stood, a few inches above her but he wouldn't look at her. Feeling disgruntled, she grabbed his hand. Startled, he looked up at her questioningly, and she gasped as his eyes filled her sight.

* * *

Kevin started as Santana caught hold of his hand. His eyes widened in panic as he watched her gawk at him, reading her face for any signs of recognition. Merely to find something to do, he cast his eyes behind her, at Brittany who had been standing there silently the whole time. She was watching him closely, eyes slightly narrowed. As his eyes fell on her, her eyes widened, but her face soon took on her usual vague expression. Kevin sighed in relief and looked back at Santana warily, but she didn't seem to have reached any epiphany, though she was still staring at him unashamedly. He subtly pulled his hand from her grasp and walked over to the car that Mr Harris had brought in, popping the hood, and getting lost in the complications of the engine.

* * *

Santana _knew _those eyes. She had only seen one person with eyes, glasz, as their owner had informed her. But this person _couldn't _be Kurt Hummel. He just couldn't. It was too convenient – a few months after her friend's disappearance, and here he was, working as a mechanic a few hours away. Besides, the man currently bending over her engine (and she tilted her head a bit to fully appreciate his, er, _assets_) looked nothing like her adorable gay friend. In fact, she was pretty certain that he was straight. Even though she was in love with Brittany (and wow, she hadn't thought of Brittany since she met this guy) it wouldn't hurt to have a bit of fun. She reached up and undid the hair clasp holding her hair up, so that her shiny black hair cascaded down one shoulder. She pouted ever so slightly and reached into the back pocket of her shorts, drawing out a slip of paper with her number, _Santana Lopez- Call me,_ and a heart on it. She made a habit to carry at least three of these slips on her person at all times (she was Santana Lopez, what did you expect?). She flounced over to where the man was just getting up, and tapped him on the shoulder, handing him the slip and saying, "So, I'll come by in a few days' time. Thank you _so much. _Come on Britt," and proceeding to grab Brittany's hand to pull her out of the garage (making sure to swing her hips more than usual). However, her plan was foiled when Brittany yanked her hand away, telling Santana to go ahead, and that she would catch up.

Santana bit back an annoyed retort, and forced a wide smile, winking at the mechanic who was standing back, arms folded and a bemused expression on his face. She tossed her hair back, turning and walking out alone, heels clicking in the almost empty garage.

* * *

Kevin had to stop a derisive snort as he watched Santana walk out. He instead schooled a questioning look onto his face as he now looked at Brittany. She hurried back to where he stood, and then suddenly threw her arms around him. Kevin stood, unresponsive and in shock, as she whispered, "Bye Kurt," into his ear and placed a small kiss on his cheek, then ran out after Santana.

Kevin made to run after her, though to do what, he wasn't sure. Would he ask her not to tell? Or how she knew? But it was too late, she had gone. Heart thumping wildly at having been discovered, he looked down at the piece of paper in his hands. He had seen many exactly like it, even helped Santana make them at one of the New Directions' girls (and Kurt) sleepovers. He laughed to himself softly as a wave of happy memories washed over him, of the person he used to be and the friends he used to have.

* * *

Kevin was in a dilemma. The end of McKinley High School's summer vacation was looming nearer, and so was the start of the fall semester. Although his fake ID had made him old enough to not have to return to school, it would be his senior year, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to miss it. However, returning would mean a whole lot of complications, and he wasn't ready to embrace his old life yet. When he had left, he had planned his life out, how he would go back to Lima in ten years, and laugh in everyone's faces at how successful he was. He sighed in frustration. Ten years was a long way away. He hated that he was missing everything. Locking away his emotions like he intended to do at the beginning was really difficult. The most he could manage was to manage his exterior, the mask he used to hide away from the world, but he was already skilled at that from his years as Kurt Hummel. In fact, as Kurt, he had had to work to _show _his emotions, which was why they tended to be quite exaggerated. But even that was easier than trying to force himself to be indifferent. Kevin decided to give himself a compromise, and do the next best thing to going back to McKinley.

**Yayy! I'm feeling happy :) ****Review please  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:**

**I'm sorry this is late (one day!) but I did warn you didn't I? A bit of a filler chapter this one, but I like it :)  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee  
**

* * *

"So this was another thing that Kurt did every year?"

Blaine Anderson was getting better by the day. The summer vacation with the Hudmels had been good to him, and although still heartbroken, he could find reasons to smile and live his life. Another package had arrived earlier that day, by courier again. A large box, filled with something for every one of Kurt's friends and family. Burt was telling him how Kurt used to save the money he earned during the summer vacation and buy everybody a gift at the start of every school year, a token of gratitude for their friendship and a way to cheer them up from the depressing thought of returning to school.

"That was so thoughtful of him."

"Well, he was a thoughtful kid."

There hadn't been a parcel for Blaine. His heart sunk as he watched Finn take out every individually wrapped parcel, looking for his own, and hand Blaine only an envelope. There was a pang in Blaine's chest as he opened it with trembling fingers

_Hey Blaine,_

_I hope you're doing well, and I just wanted to tell you that I'm really sorry. For everything, Blaine. I was so wrong to say those things to you. You have been the greatest friend to me, and especially because you were there when I needed you the most. So I thank you for that._

_Now, moving on to more cheerful topics... the gifts I gave to everyone. You didn't think I'd forgotten you, did you?_ _On the contrary, my dear sir, I had actually already bought your gift, approximately six months ago, and was saving it to give to you now. So, to find your gift and I hope it isn't too much trouble, if you could enter my bedroom and to the back of my closet, where there is a shelf near the ceiling. You might have to use a chair or something to reach it though, little Hobbit._

Blaine pouted a little at the height jab, laughing despite the tears running down his cheeks at the sight of Kurt's handwriting, at the fact that Kurt had put thought into these words. He read on, and burst out laughing.

_You can stop pouting now, I was only kidding._

_So anyway, on the shelf there should be a box. Please be careful with it, I don't put much in it, but everything in there is important to me. Your gift is wrapped and on the top. _

Blaine immediately ran up the stairs, and opened the door to Kurt's bedroom. He had long since moved into the guest bedroom, and the door to Kurt's room remained locked. Kurt's aroma still lingered in the air. Blaine breathed it in, smiling a little before following Kurt's instructions. He half sighed in exasperation, half laughed as he discovered that he indeed had to stand on Kurt's desk chair to get to the shelf. He extracted it from on top of the shelf and set it down on Kurt's bed, sitting down and opening it. A colourful mess greeted him, a stark contrast to the rest of Kurt's life, his neatness and organization. This only made Blaine more curious, and after taking out his immaculately wrapped gift (he rolled his eyes at this, even Kurt's messiness was neat) he rummaged a bit in the contents, most of which were photographs. Flicking through them carefully, Blaine discovered that they were mostly of a woman with Kurt's eyes – Elizabeth Hummel.

Blaine smiled sadly as he looked at the expressions on the family's faces. Young Kurt was adorable, grinning widely at his mother. He looked truly happy, and Blaine realized that he hadn't seen Kurt that happy before. The thought made him sigh dejectedly. He now turned his attention to the parcel in his hands. Opening it, Blaine's frown fell away to be replaced by a slowly widening grin.

Inside there was a pair of bright pink sunglasses. He put them on, and, looking in the mirror, felt like he had just found what was missing from his face. He laughed to himself and looked back at the letter which he had abandoned in his haste to find his gift.

_I don't know if you recognize them, but during the disastrous 'Gap Attack' while singing a hideous inappropriate song (and yes, I will berate you for this for the rest of your life) you seemed to take a liking to these. I gotta say they suit you and I'm sure you agree._

_Happy Back to School, Blaine_

_K.H_

_P.S I just want to say I'm sorry again, but this time for making you uncomfortable. Deep down I knew my love for you was unrequited but I guess I just didn't want to believe it. I still do though. Love you I mean, but I know now that the best thing for both of us would be for me to move on. Especially considering our situation, I don't know if I'll ever see you again. This may be the last you ever hear from me so I just wanted to let you know that I'll never forget you._

Blaine hurriedly read and reread the post-script feeling a sense of dread fill his stomach.

_Unrequited.._

_I still love you.._

_Best for me to move on.._

"But I don't want you to move on Kurt! Please, please don't move on!" Blaine crumpled, head falling into his arms, cursing himself for what felt like the millionth time for letting Kurt get away.

* * *

It had been extremely difficult to write the letter to Blaine. Kevin hadn't thought of Blaine for a long time, as try he might, he could not banish the heartbreak he felt at the thought of the charming tenor. But he had to move on. He kept the piece of paper with Santana's number stuck to his fridge, not so he could use it, but as a reminder that he did have options. After all, he had turned his whole life around, why not his sexuality? He couldn't deny that it would be most convenient if he could wake up and be straight just as easily as he had changed physically, but if he couldn't then why not force it? He had done with everything else. His voice, his behaviour, his emotions. His 'straight' week back in freshman year hadn't been _terrible._ Kissing Brittany wasn't _awful, _especially since she had done all the work_. _He _could _fake it, couldn't he?

* * *

That night Blaine Anderson dreamt of a parallel world, where Kurt had never left, where they sang a duet at Regionals and became a couple after the death of a canary. He dreamt of accompanying each other to Prom, and declarations of love in the Lima Bean. He dreamt of the whole summer spent in each other's arms, and memories of the two of them.

That night, for the first time in months, Blaine Anderson cried himself back to sleep, tortured by the thoughts of what could have been.

* * *

**Please review**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:**

**Hello! So yeah, I just finished writing this, and to be honest, I'm not really too fond of the events in this chapter, but they needed to be written. So yeah.  
**

**Please review, and tell me what you think!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee.  
**

* * *

Brittany felt a wave of guilt wash over her at the thought of her secret when she walked into the choir room on the first day of her senior year at McKinley High. She looked around at the cheerful faces of her fellow glee club members, but she could see the lack of authenticity. Nothing had been the same after Kurt left.

She thought of where Kurt was now. It had been a pleasant surprise to find him. His eyes had given him away; the unique colour was firmly imprinted in her mind as belonging to Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. But if she had heard correctly, Kurt didn't go by his name anymore. He went by Kevin, which she didn't think suited him at all. But then again, she didn't think the new Kurt suited him either. She wished she could have stayed a little longer, maybe long enough to exchange numbers – she really wanted to catch up, and persuade him to return. Brittany smiled to herself. She could be very persuasive.

As she made her way to her seat, she noticed Finn walking through the door, hauling a cardboard box in his arms. Finn set the box down on the piano and started taking out the contents, which appeared to be labelled packages. Apparently, handing them out was too much effort, and soon the giant teenager was throwing them round the room. After a few minutes of confusion, in which several people got injured by packages to the head, everybody was holding a wrapped package in their hands. As each of her friends opened their own, smiles of recognition and delight lit up their faces, though there was a hint of sadness behind it all. This had something to do with Kurt.

She directed her gaze to the package in her own lap. The wrapping was perfect, and the label (Brittany S. Pierce) clearly indicated that it was from Kurt. For one thing, it was his handwriting, but Kurt was probably the only person who still included her middle initial. Most people seemed to think that she still had an objection to her name, but after her Britney Spears epiphany, she had confided in Kurt and Santana that she quite liked having something to live up to. Apparently Kurt was the only one who had cared enough to continue adding it in, but that was to be expected. Santana, although Brittany had no doubt loved her, seemed to dismiss the odd things that Brittany would come out with. Sometimes she would say strange things on purpose, to gauge her reaction, and to see if Santana really saw her as everyone else did, a dumb blonde.

Brittany opened her package, laughing in delight when she found an extra-large cat collar for Lord Tubbington. It was beautiful, made of soft black leather, with '_Lord Tubbington' _embroidered in silver on the front. A small silver crown dotted either side of the name and a larger metal one dangled off the front, attached to a bell which twinkled merrily. As she made to place it carefully in her bag, something white from the inside of the collar caught her eye. She brought it up to her face, gasping slightly when she realised it was a tiny label, with a cell phone number on it and in miniscule writing:

_Please Don't Tell –K.H_

* * *

Kevin was nervous, to say the least. He was going on his very first date-not-just-make out-session with a girl. She was the barista at the local coffee shop, who had shyly written her number next to his name on his coffee cup one morning before work. She was small and cheerful, with long dark hair and pretty eyes. He had stared down at his cup for about a minute, then looked up at where she was watching him, anxiously biting her lip, and oblivious to the line of customers trying to get her attention. He smiled at her, and mouthed 'I'll call you', before giving her the thumbs up and hurrying out.

They were going to watch a movie, then have dinner. It was simple, and a classic first date. If he was being perfectly honest, there was a hint of excitement behind all the nerves. He was eager to see how this would turn out.

Unfortunately, the date seemed to be doomed to disaster before it had begun. Kevin was so busy trying (and failing) to keep his nerves under control that he forgot his date's name. He searched frantically for his phone, which he had used to secure the details for their date. He found it underneath the couch, and looked through the recent calls. There was a number he didn't recognize, but he hadn't saved it under a name. Cursing himself, Kevin hurried to open the door as there was a knock at it. Before he did, however, he was hit with a brainwave.

"Who is it?" he called through the door.

"It's me! Open up!"

"Damnit!" he muttered under his breath. "Sorry, who?" he called out again.

"It's me, Amy!"

Kevin fist-pumped the air at his success, and swung the door open.

"Hey, ready to go?" she asked him, smiling.

Kevin stepped outside, and a rush of cold air greeted him.

"Uhh, actually, could you wait here for a bit, I need to just grab my jacket,"

He looked around the living room, but couldn't spot it anywhere. He groaned at the lack of his organisation. He lead Amy to the couch and ran into his bedroom to try and find the leather jacket. From behind the locked door he could hear his phone ring.

"Hey, Amy, could you just get that, I still can't find my jacket," he yelled through the door.

"Sure!," he heard her response, and then a "Hello?"

* * *

Amy was excited. She was going on a date with a hot guy, who, although looked like a badboy, was a true gentleman. It was the best of both worlds. When he asked her to pick up his phone, she felt a rush of happiness that he trusted her to take his phonecalls. She pressed the 'Answer' button and held the cell phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

A bubbly female voice answered her.

"Kevin? Is that you? You sound different, more like a girl."

Amy frowned.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Silly Kevin it's me, remember? It's Brittany. Hey I miss you. When can I see you again?"

Amy felt a cold hand clench her heart. He had seemed so perfect. She hung up on the girl on the other side of the phone, and tried to hold back her tears as she watched Kevin come out of his bedroom, sliding on the leather jacket that had attracted her so much. nOtcing her frown, he stopped.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a gentle voice.

* * *

_No, no! This date could not be going badly already! _Kevin's mind was screaming at him as he scanned through the possibilities of what could have upset Amy. She held out his phone to him. Kevin felt bewildered. Who was it, and what had they said?

"That was _Brittany." _She spat, venom dripping in her tone.

Kevin closed his eyes and groaned. He knew there was no use in trying to explain. He let her shout at him.

"..You know, we haven't even been on a date yet, and you're _cheating _on me. I thought you were a nice guy…"

Kevin just sighed and took his jacket off, throwing it on the back of the couch as Amy slammed the door behind her. He didn't really feel a loss at her absence. _I guess it wouldn't have worked out anyway _he thought.

At least there was one good thing about tonight's events, he thought as he threw himself on the couch, put his feet up and closed his eyes.

He now had Brittany's number.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry for the delay, I was travelling yesterday. I hope this chapter clears stuff up for all of you. Umm.. enjoy!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee.  
**

* * *

Brittany wasn't sure if she wanted to call Kevin back, she was a bit offended at how the last phone call had gone. It turned out, she didn't have to, as less than an hour later, she felt her pocket vibrate, indicating a call from Kevin H. She sat up from where she had been lying down on her bed and stroking Lord Tubbington to pick it up, excitement building within her at the thought of a conversation with her dolphin. She held it to her ear and waited.

"Hello?"

That was definitely how she remembered talking to him last. She knew how uncomfortable it was for him to talk in his lower register, and wondered sadly how much effort it took to keep up his 'Kevin' facade.

"Hey Kurt!"

She heard a cough as he muttered awkwardly.

"I'm.. err.. I'm not..my name's not Kurt anymore Britt."

"Oh.. ok then.. How are you then _Kevin_?"

She spat the name out in disgust.

"Hey.. no, don't be like that Britt, that's..that's just my name now. I'm not the same person anymore."

At these words Brittany's eyes filled with tears. Try as she might, she could not keep the wobble out of her voice.

"So, you don't c-care about us anymore?" She grew angrier. "You think you can just leave, and just change your name and your voice and your face and the way you dress, and- YOU CAN'T JUST _DO _THAT!"

Kevin didn't speak for a moment, then-

"I'm sorry." He said brokenly. "I'm sorry, for leaving, and I _do _care, I just-"

She interrupted him.

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled, I just miss you _so _much."

"I miss you too Britt."

After this somewhat awkward start, their conversation began to flow more smoothly, with Kevin asking question after question about the new Directions and his old life, Brittany deflecting them with questions on what had happened after he left.

* * *

It was _wonderful _to talk to someone who had known him as Kurt again. Living on his own, starting a new life, although gave him the fresh start he had always wanted, meant that nobody knew anything about him. The friends he had now, although loyal and good, didn't know who he really was. The foundation of their friendship was built on lies, even the simplest of details, his family, his age, his _name._

"When are you going to come home?"

He was brought out of his contemplations at Brittany soft, hesitant voice. He sighed. He had been avoiding this question.

* * *

Brittany held her breath at the other end of the line. She closed her eyes and waited for the answer.

"I'm..not, Brittany."

Brittany's heart sank. She didn't even have the heart to argue. He had not said, _I don't know_ or _Maybe soon._ He wasn't coming home.

"Oh.."

The conversation was building on awkward again.

"Well, I miss you... we all do." She said, gloom taking over her voice again.

"Um.. me too. Love you Britt."

"Love you too.. Kurt."

She hung up the phone before he could correct her again. Feeling strangely empty, she lay back down, Lord Tubbington mewling as he climbed onto her stomach and lay there, purring. She stroked him absentmindedly and replayed their conversation in her head. It wasn't ideal, but she could tell that he was happy. That had to count for something. Lord Tubbington got off her stomach and nuzzled her neck. She rested her chin in his soft fur and closed her eyes, feeling content as Kevin's words swam around in her head.

* * *

Kevin heard the dial tone follow Brittany's last words and left the phone on his ear for a few more moments, thinking. It was only now that he realized just how much he missed being Kurt Hummel. Kurt's friends, his family. _His bullies _he thought bitterly. He couldn't afford to think like that. He was Kevin Hunter, and home was Miami, not Lima. _You're only kidding yourself.._

He shook his head violently to rid himself of the invading thoughts_. _He looked at the was nearing midnight. There was no point staying awake. It wasn't as if he was going to get any dates. He chuckled darkly at the irony of the situation, and switched on the TV, leaving it on an old rerun of _Friends _and making himself comfortable on the couch.

* * *

The next few weeks continued in a similar pattern. Kevin would go to work, Brittany to school, then in the evening one of them would call the other, talking sometimes for hours on end. She never asked the question again, in fact they avoided the topic of coming home altogether, both sensing an awkwardness in the subject that they would both rather not face.

At school, particularly in Glee Club, people were starting to notice the change in Brittany's mood. While normally subdued since the disappearance of one of her best friends, nowadays she was seen smiling constantly, a happy glow that only Brittany could emit. This happiness seemed to come from her phone, as she was often seen staring down at it, laughing as masses of texts arrived, typing replies feverishly as they came.

Artie had grown suspicious of her behaviour, hurt showing on his face as she blew him off once again to reply to another text. Though she denied his accusations, he kept asking to see her phone, growing frustrated every time to find that she had deleted her recent text conversations. She was outraged that he couldn't trust her, him declaring that if she had nothing to hide she wouldn't delete the evidence. It all blew up one afternoon when Artie had come over to her house, in a desperate attempt to hold their relationship together. She had left her phone behind to go and get drinks after an exchange with Kevin and they had signed off with their usual:

_Love you Britt._

_Love you too K._

This had been enough for Artie, breaking up with her there on the spot and leaving in a fit of tears and rage. As Brittany lay in her bed later that night, she couldn't bring herself to cry. For the past week, her breakup seemed like an inevitability; she had been expecting it, and so it didn't come as much of a shock. This considered, she _had _just been dumped, and so she reflected sadly on her relationship with Artie. It hadn't been the first time that he accused her of cheating. She supposed she couldn't blame him after what had happened with Tina, but she would have appreciated his trust. All thoughts of Artie went out the window when she heard Kevin's familiar ringtone, though his and Mercedes' version had been a lot better.

_4 Minutes._

That had been the Kurt she remembered, snarky, sarcastic, loveable (not that he was ever unloveable). She had hardly recognised the boy once Karofsky had started harassing him, and she was apparently the only one who recognised him _now._ The thought saddened her, and when Kevin started talking in a low, gruff voice, she felt sick. He had gone through so much, that he felt like he should change everything around. She wished that she could hold him, and tell him it was okay to be who you had always been a fierce protector, and now Brittany realised that he had had nobody to protect _him. _Angry at herself, angry at everybody, Brittany vowed to herself that she would do something about that.

* * *

**Ta daa! What did you think? Review please!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry sorry sorry for the delay! I won't lie I was procrastinating. I had no idea what to do for this chapter, but towards the end I got an idea and now I'm buzzing with excitement to read the next chapter! Also please excuse the revenge bit, I'm not that good at writing that kind of thing.  
**

**Anywho, please review! (Hey that rhymes..)  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee. But I know some people who do, and they're starting it up again in a few weeks. Woot woot!  
**

**P.S I may be hyper, as I just ate some chocolate..  
**

* * *

Music broke the silence in the tiny Miami apartment in the early hours of Friday morning. Kevin groaned as he rolled out of bed and answered his phone.

"Brittany?"

He had recognised the personal ringtone he had set her – _Slave 4 U. _He grumbled slightly under his breath as he looked at the clock on his bedside table. 6.30. What on _earth _did she want this early?

"Hey Kevin, I just wanted to talk."

"Brittany, not that I don't love talking to you, but why this goddamn _early?"_

"Oh. Well I can call back, sorry –"

Kevin rubbed his eyes and collapsed back on his bed.

"No, no, we might as well."

"Oh, ok, I just wanted to wish you luck today."

"Huh? Oh. Right, thanks Britt that means a lot to me."

Today Kevin was taking a big step in deciding his future. He was selling his Navigator. It was possibly the last thing that connected him to Kurt Hummel, his baby, and it was time to let go. Brittany had been opposed to the idea at first, but after realizing that this was something he really had to do, she kept quiet about it and supported him.

"Hey Kevin."

If he didn't know Brittany so well he would have mistaken those words for a puff of breath. His heart swelled slightly at the prospect of them. Brittany only spoke really quietly when she was going to say something heartfelt.

"Yeah?"

"I love you so much. And I wish I could make you see how perfect you are, _every bit of you_, and that you don't have to change for anybody. But if you feel you have to, then I will support you, because you mean the world to me K."

Kevin closed his eyes as a lone tear dribbled down his cheek. He drew a long shuddering breath, trying to keep his rapidly beating heart inside his chest. He had never had someone say _anything _like that to him before, the fact that he meant so much to someone made him feel inexplicably proud..which was why it was so hard to let them down.

"God I love you so much Brittany. You're the one person who keeps me sane, you know? You're everything. But.. I _have _to do this. If I don't, I'll forever be dragged back by my past. I've already changed the course of my future, this is just the final obstacle."

"I completely understand."

"So.. you gonna tell me why you're up so early?"

"Well, Lord Tubbington sneaked out last night and he only just came back. I've got a feeling that he went to Scandals, he smells like alcohol and cigarettes, God I had a feeling he was gay.."

Kevin chuckled slightly at his best friend and closed his eyes, losing himself in the sound of her voice and speculations, feeling unconsciousness wash over him. He wasn't worried though. Knowing Brittany, she would fall asleep while talking anyway, and had done. He remembered the first time it had happened when he had just finished telling her what had happened at work and hearing a soft snore in reply. That was the great thing about Brittany. Once she started caring about you, you fell into a comfortable routine. It was familiar, it was relaxed, and it just felt like _home._

* * *

It was one of the customers at the garage who had bought it. A decent price, and that was _after _he had given Mr Harris his share for finding a suitable client and negotiating with them. After looking for a good car to substitute it, nights spent on the phone with Brittany while scrolling through car trade websites, he finally found a suitable replacement: A Chevy Camaro. It was an old model (he hadn't made _that _much money) but it was exactly what he was looking for. It was sleek, silver, and when he drove it into the garage to show Mr H, there were a few whistles of appreciation. Kevin couldn't hold in his grin as he watched Mr H examine it, then give him a thumbs up.

"Good on you Hunter. I'll touch it up for you if you want. On the house."

Kevin bumped his fist with him, then switched off the ignition and got out. He was already wearing his work overalls and so got to work straight away.

* * *

Santana watched over Brittany's shoulder in Glee as Brittany opened a text message to find a picture of a car. It was a Chevrolet, a nice model, but what intrigued her was who it belonged to. She craned her neck a bit more to read what Brittany was now typing out in response.

_So you decided on it then? I'm so happy for you! I love it. When can I get a ride? ;p_

Santana frowned. Who was this person? But now Mr Schue was walking in, and Brittany had hidden her phone in her bag, though she still texted from it in her lap. She would have to ask about it later.

* * *

The weeks flew past, and before he knew it, the holiday season was approaching. Though he would not admit it, Kevin was dreading it. There had always been traditions when it came to Thanksgiving and Christmas in the Hummel household, and now Kevin would have to spend it alone. Brittany seemed to sense his gloom and had offered to come down to Miami to spend a few days with him. It would be complicated, but if certain precautions were taken, Brittany was sure she could persuade her parents. In the end they had agreed, on the one condition that Santana went with her. Brittany had opted from informing Kevin of this tiny _tiny _complication and dreaded the day when he opened his apartment door to find the Latina alongside his best friend.

* * *

Brittany was scheming. As happy as she was for Kevin, and as pleased as she was to be able to see him so soon, she was still so angry at everybody for pushing him away. Especially David Karofsky,. She enlisted the help of her best girl friend Santana to punish the bastard for what he had done to Kurt, though of course nothing they could do to him would be quite enough revenge.

As the winter months drew near, she and Santana memorized the hulking jock's schedule, which hallways he was in and which of them were closest to exits. It wasn't long until they put their plan into action. Two days before Christmas break, and a week before setting off for Miami, Brittany Pierce and Santana Lopez prowled the halls of McKinley High, a slushy in each hand. When they saw the jock, Brittany hurled the icy drink in her hands, and then performed a cartwheel towards Karofsky, succeeding in knocking him down as her foot hit his shoulders. As she pinned him down momentarily, Santana poured the drinks in her hands down his back, and they rolled him, squealing like a girl out of the exit and into the bitter weather. Locking the doors behind them, they high fived one another then linked pinkies and strutted down the hallways, ignoring the staring of the shocked audience they had attracted.

"Got that, Hobbit?" Santana asked, looking over her shoulder where they had just passed Blaine Anderson, holding a camcorder.

"Yup, but what do I do with-?"

"Hand it here." She tossed the camera to Jacob Ben Israel whose mouth was gaping quite unattractively.

"Here, Jewfro. Be of use for once in your miserable life." And she turned the corner, hips swinging and Cheerios skirt swishing behind her.

* * *

Kevin was excited. He had sent off the text message containing his apartment address to Brittany and she would be arriving at any moment. To be honest, he hadn't expected her parents to allow her to travel across a state by herself, but Brittany was a strange person. She must have learnt it from somebody. He had cooked dinner, the first time he had done so since moving in all those months ago,. Usually he made do with a sandwich, or else a takeaway. Sure, he'd used the stove before, and the oven to reheat frozen meals, but never had he actually _cooked._ He supposed it was Brittany's influence. She made him want to be better. He wiped his hands on his jeans as he heard a knock at the door.

"It's open!"

"Kay-kay!"

Before he knew it he had received an armful of blonde bubbly girl. He kissed her gently on top of the head and looked at her. It had been months since he had seen her.

"Hey Brittany."

He smiled warmly at her. The moment was broken by an indignant shout. Kevin looked up in alarm.

"Wait, _you?"_

Santana Lopez was standing at the doorstep, holding Brittany's bags.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:**

**I'm so sorry this is late, there just have been so many things going on this past month. My favourite chapter though so far, hope it makes up for it!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee. But the spoilers are KILLING ME!  
**

* * *

"So let me get this straight.. you rejected me, then went after my taken best friend?" Santana narrowed her eyes. "And you!" Santana rounded on Brittany. "You reject me for Artie, and say you won't cheat on him. I didn't like it, but I respected it. But you _do _cheat on McCripple Pants, just with this admittedly gorgeous guy."

Kevin preened a little at the compliment.

"Err.. yes?"

Santana leaned back on the couch.

"I can't believe you."

"What, you think we're _lying? _'Cause, we're not.." said Kevin with an attempt at nonchalance.

"No, _seriously. _I don't believe either of you. That's not the kind of person you are, Brittany. So you want to tell me what's _really _going on here?"

"No..?"

Santana chuckled darkly. "Wait a minute, I phrased that wrong, you _will _tell me what's going on here, or Iwill put those beautiful muscles of yours into the blender and make you _drink it._"

Slightly disturbed by her threat, Kevin looked over Santana at Brittany who was leaning against the kitchen counter and gave a small nod. Brittany's eyes widened and her lips turned up in a small but happy smile.

Kevin took a deep breath.

"Right, well. I'll tell you the truth. But you cannot tell _anybody. _Seriously, not a single soul. This is who I am and if you do anything, it'll just make everything worse-"

"Wait, what are you saying?"

Santana was staring at him, confusion evident all over her face. Kevin closed his eyes, and thought of the best way to tell her. To 'come out'. He forced himself to drop the lower pitch, going for his more natural, but long unused high pitch voice.

"I'm-" And the high pitch seemed foreign to his ears now, "I'm Kurt Hummel."

* * *

Santana's head was filled with a sudden buzzing, blocking out any more sound. The look on the man's face, the uncertain way he announced his secret, and the words now revolving around her brain.

"I'm Kurt Hummel."

"_I'm Kurt Hummel."_

_Kurt Hummel._

She felt a slight pressure on her cheeks and opened her eyes to find Kevin, no _Kurt _and _damn _this was confusing, wipe away the tears that had fallen from the pool that had enveloped her eyes.

Memories were flashing before her, the cemetery, the video, the sorrow, the shameless way she had flirted all summer..

This seemed to bring her to her senses.

"Wait, you let me flirt with you like that? And you _knew?"_

She crossed her arms, indignant as Kurt started laughing slightly. Brittany joined in too, and before she knew it, she couldn't hold it in much longer and they were all in hysterics, in danger of rolling off the couch.

"I-still-have-your number" Kurt wheezed. "I stuck it on the-_fridge." _He collapsed again as more of the memory of the event came back to him.

Santana recovered first, laughter dying out as the thought began to sink in. This was _Kurt. _Kurt Hummel, baby gay, never ashamed of who he was and all that crap. So why was he here, a _completely _different person?

"Kurt, I-"

"Don't call me that. My name is Kevin. I will accept K or Hunter. But my name's not Kurt anymore. And you just have to respect that."

His voice had returned to his earlier lower tone. It suddenly hit Santana what he was asking her to do.

"Wait, I have to keep this a _secret?_ Do you understand how hard that's going to be? You have to come home, Ku- _Kevin. _You belong back with us."

Kevin stood up, towering over her, eyes alight with rage.

"_Belong? _I have never _belonged._ In fact every single person in that damned town made it very clear to me that I can't , and will never belong anywhere! I am not going back. And you will keep that secret because I have trusted you with it. And I know enough about you to persuade you if you need persuading."

Santana narrowed her eyes at him, then stuck her hand out stiffly. He ignored it and went straight for a hug. She closed her eyes as she was enveloped in his arms, letting his scent wash over her. This was _Kurt. _The last time she had seen him (as Kurt, not Kevin) he had been so hurt.

"For the record, I'm really sorry. For everything." She said, pulling away and wiping her eyes again.

He had tears on his own face too as he replied with a warm smile.

"It's alright. But you have to understand that I am better now."

"Yeah," said Santana. "And I'll support you."

"So will I, Kevin." Brittany joined them, squeezing in between them. They laughed and brought their arms up in a group hug until Kevin cried out:

"Okay, when did this turn into a threesome? I have had _enough _of the mushiness. Who wants a beer?"

Laughing, they relaxed on the couch, Brittany and Kevin bringing Santana up to date with everything. Santana was shocked at how much Kevin had changed of his life, and demanded to see his fake ID.

"This is so freaking badass!"

It was safe to say that Santana had had the most awesome Christmas break ever. And, hey, if she had to deliver something to the Hudmels, then that was a small price to pay.

* * *

It had been a much needed break from Kevin's fake life. As much as he liked to kid himself that this was the new him, Kurt's life lured him in. Having Brittany and Santana in his life steadied him, anchoring him to this life, pushing him to work harder, live harder. But the information they had given him had caused conflict within him. Though he pushed it down while he worked, throwing himself into his job, snippets of their conversations came back to haunt him once he had nothing distract him at night…

"_He really misses you, K."_

"_He took it worse than all of us_

"_Your family took him in."_

"_Kevin ..Blaine loves you."_

Kevin refused to believe them. It couldn't be true, and if it was, then it was sick irony. That his departure was a catalyst in Blaine's process of recognizing his feelings for Kurt made bile rise up his throat. Because that's what it was. Blaine recognizing his feelings (assuming there were any) for _Kurt. _Not Kevin. Kurt was all in all soft, with the occasional snarky remark, but sweet, proud of who he was, loved fashion and Broadway and singing. Kevin on the other hand was blunt, the epitome of masculinity, back in the closet again and hadn't sung for _months. _It hurt him, though not physically, to sing in his lower register, he wanted singing to be a part of _Kurt's _life. Kurt, not Kevin.

The only part that intrigued him, and that he _possibly _could believe was that Blaine was now living at the Hudmel household. Santana had explained what had happened, and although sceptical, Kevin could expect that from his family, and so grudgingly accepted it as fact. It made everything a lot easier now anyway. He had sent off another cardboard box with Santana, with gifts for his family.

When he had explained what it was, Santana had rolled her eyes and said,

"You know, for someone who wants nothing to do with your old life, you sure do send a lot of stuff."

There was a warm smile on her face despite her exasperated tone, and one look at her face told Kevin that she understood. He _needed _to do this.

* * *

**Review please! :D**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note:**

**So I'm really really really sorry for the late delay. These past two weeks have been hectic, and I start school tomorrow :( Trying to cram in a bit of fun before I have to wake up early :p  
**

**Enjoy this chapter, and please review, share your thoughts, it's so interesting to hear your views on the goings on in this story and it means so much to me :)  
**

* * *

Blaine woke up relatively early, to find that he had forgotten to close the blinds in his room. His bedroom was now illuminated with a blinding whiteness from outside his window. Rubbing his eyes and getting up, he looked out to see that the street outside was now buried under several feet of snow. Laughing in delight, he pressed his nose to the now freezing glass to get a better look, his breath misting up the window. It looked like a Christmas card. There had been snow when he had lived in his parents' house in Westerville, but back then it had been just him in his back garden, struggling to build a snowman, or throwing snowballs at the fence surrounding the garden. He hadn't _really _been excited for snow since Cooper had lived with them, but he had a feeling that Finn wouldn't let him down.

Sure enough, when he went down ten minutes later, having washed and dressed, he found Finn sitting at the kitchen table, already dressed in a puffy jacket, scarf, hat and gloves. It was almost cute to see this massively overgrown teenager bundled up like a little child.

"Come on, dude, get dressed. We're meeting the New Directions at the park for a snowball fight."

Blaine grinned at him, and headed upstairs again, throwing on his jacket, and an extra pair of jeans over his own. He had gotten ill from playing in the snow before, and it hadn't been fun. When he came out of his room again, he met Carole in the hallway, looking bleary eyed. She smiled warmly at him.

"Don't you have a scarf dear?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Nah, I must have lost it."

Carole pursed her lips.

"Well, you can't go out without a scarf-" Blaine now knew why Finn had been dressed so warmly.

"-Here, take one of Kurt's ones."

She thrust a red and black patterned scarf onto his neck and started winding it. Blaine smiled at the motherly gesture and took it from her hands.

"Thanks, Carole."

He bounded down the stairs and back into the kitchen where Finn was waiting, cheeks bulging with some unknown nourishment and tapping his foot impatiently. He dragged Blaine out of the door and in the direction of the park.

* * *

Santana glanced behind her as she crept through the quiet street. The box she was holding in her arms wasn't heavy, just large and awkward, and she jiggled it slightly every now and then to raise it higher in her arms. She hurried slightly once she had spotted her destination, and looking over her shoulder one more time, she placed the load onto the doorstep and hurried away to meet her friends.

Nobody questioned her lateness, much to her relief, and soon enough, she was in the midst of an epic snowball fight, wiping the package clean from her mind. It wasn't until hours later, when the cold had become too much for everybody to bear any longer, and Finn offered his place for warmth and hot chocolate did the box cross her mind once more. Panic flooded her veins as she trailed behind the group, noticing from afar the trail of footprints that she had left behind earlier. She held her breath every time the New Directions passed one, but she had nothing to worry about. The number of people walking over the footprints ensured that they were well out of sight. Reassured, Santana started a conversation with Blaine, throwing in a couple of insults every now and then, but he only laughed them off, used to her snarky antics.

_He really does know me well,_ thought Santana, and he should. An unusual, but very real friendship had formed between them since Kurt's disappearance, but only this year had they become closer, more trusting towards each other. Blaine had confided in her that he truly was in love with Kurt, how he regretted nothing more than the argument he had had with Kurt. He had shown her the letter Kurt had sent him at the beginning of the year, and she had spoken to Kevin about it, demanded explanation, answers he would not share.

Her recent relationship with Kevin was affecting her friendship with Blaine. It had now become extremely difficult, talking to Blaine, withholding information he would kill to have, to stop herself from blurting out the truth, "He's in Miami, he loves you too, oh and his name is now Kevin_."_

_It may be difficult sometimes, _she thought as she watched him speak with his hands, excitement clear in his face, _but it's worth it to have such a great friend._

* * *

Blaine felt happier than he had in a long time. If he had had any doubt before this point that the New Directions were not his family, they were erased. He had felt more at home with them that he had felt in a long time, and he couldn't help but feel that the last time he had felt this content was when Kurt had held him last, during one of their movie marathons. Blaine had learnt to make peace with this thought, though of course it still killed him to think that he had had a chance. He chatted with Santana, glad to have somebody like her to trust. He was still just as shocked as ever that he was on such amazing terms with _Santana Lopez,_ but he decided that was one of the gifts of life. That and Kurt Hummel.

Blaine stopped walking when they reached the Hudmel household. He was at the back of the group, and so couldn't see what the commotion was when they had stood out there for almost five minutes, Finn making no effort to open the door. Blaine rolled his eyes and pushed through to the front of the group.

"Finn, I swear, if you've forgotten your keys _again-" _

He fell silent as he caught sight of what Finn was staring at. There, sat innocently on the doorstep, was a cardboard box, _The Hummel-Hudsons _printed clearly on the top.

Blaine exhaled slowly, took out his keys from his pocket and opened the door. He bent down and picked up the box and went in, heading straight for the kitchen table where he set it down. The rest of the New Directions trailed in silently, some sitting at the table, other leaning against the counters. Blaine leaned across Mike and Tina to grab the kettle and fill it up, instructing Finn to grab some mugs. Once everybody had shrugged off their wet coats, and had a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of them, Blaine spoke,

"Well?"

He didn't know why he was taking charge. All he knew was that nobody else was, and he hated the uncertainty lingering in the air. Santana broke the silence.

"Okay, I'm just gonna say what everybody else won't. It's from Kurt right?"

Blaine winced at the normality with which she spoke about Kurt, but agreed silently. They needed to get used to the fact that Kurt was probably never coming back. No matter how much his heart hurt at the thought of it.

He cleared his throat.

"Uhm, Finn, I think we should wait for Burt and Carole. That is, to open it."

Finn nodded stiffly, eyes glazed over. They sat in silence, sipping their hot chocolate, waiting for the roar of Burt's car that announced he and Carole's arrival. After almost an hour of waiting, all the mugs were empty, and the silence had morphed into hushed conversations, the occasional accidental laugh ringing through the kitchen and hastily muffled. Finally, they heard an engine, and then voices as it was killed. Carole's giggling rang through the house as they opened the front door, also dripping wet. They had clearly had some fun of their own in the snow. Blaine felt bad for the grief that was sure to overcome their happiness now.

"Oh, hey guys! Have fun?"

Blaine stood up.

"Uh, yeah, hey, this package came and, yeah.."

Blaine trailed off looking awkward. Burt paled, and Carole gasped slightly. They could never get used to those packages. Burt cleared his throat, and hands shaking, opened the box. He rummaged inside, and his eyebrows furrowed, before he turned pale and turned to Blaine.

"Here, you might want to take a look at this."

Blaine frowned, and stepped forward, feeling the eyes of every person in the room on him. He looked inside. Inside there were three parcels. Blaine looked questioningly up at Burt, but Burt motioned for him to take it out. Doing so, Blaine's eyes widened. The rest of the New Directions gathered around the box to take a look, as Blaine stood there silently, mouth open in shock.

Under the packages for Finn, Carole and Burt, was a fourth, labelled:

_Blaine Anderson – I heard you lived here now, _

_Merry Christmas _

_Love K.H_

* * *

"Where _is _he?" Blaine whined for possibly the millionth time since they entered the coffee shop."How did he _know _Santana? How did he know I'm staying at his house? Has he been watching us? _Why?_ Why won't he come _back?" _he uttered the last part in a broken whisper.

Santana looked up at that point, uncrossing her legs and sipping her cup. The Lima Bean was relatively empty, only a few regulars sitting at their usual tables. She eyed Blaine's torn face, the pain in his eyes and the heartbreak accentuated in his every movement. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes had bags beneath them and his hair wasn't even gelled back properly. Santana thought even his bow tie was droopy. Ever since the recent delivery, Blaine had been getting worse, gaining hope of Kurt, and then losing it. It would have been hilarious if it weren't so sad, to see him suddenly sit up as a hopeful thought occurred to him and then slump back down in defeat and resume his depression when he found a more logical way to counter it.

"I-I don't know Blaine. I'm sorry." She let him down gently, but the guilt was smothering her. She hated lying to him.

* * *

**Review please :D**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note:**

**Heh! It's been a while huh...  
**

**I'm sooo sorry. I am _disgusted _at myself (not really), but you know, I had.. stuff.. to do..  
**

**AND I'M JUST SORRAAYY  
**

**Okay. So this is very late, and I do apologize, but it's longer than usual (Yayyy...) and there's alot of Kurtanny (or should it be Kevnny? Kenny? Hmm..)  
**

**This story is unfortunately drawing to an end (maybe a few more chapters) , BUT I have thought of a kick-ass ending.. not really. Sort of.  
**

**Anyways, ENJOY!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee, I don't own anything  
**

* * *

The snow was melting, leaves peeking out at last, stretching out towards the white February sun. Birds chirped, singing their song, and within McKinley High School, the glee club were preparing to do the same. Mr Schuester walked in to the choir room, a broad smile on his face as he clapped his hands together and wrote _Love _on the whiteboard. Spinning on his heel, he faced the class, most of whom were giggling excitedly. He clapped his hands together.

"Right guys, Valentine's Day is coming up-"

He was interrupted by a loud squeal from the majority of the girls and Finn. Finn coughed when everybody turned to look at him, turning red. Mr Schue hid a smile, and continued.

"This year, we'll be working on the art of serenading. Pick somebody to sing to, they don't have to be a love interest, they can be anyone, parents, friends, dogs, goldfish, _anyone. _Prepare a song, and you'll perform them all later this week. Alright, we have songs from last week's assignment that haven't been performed yet. Artie, Mercedes if you'll step up.."

* * *

"Blaine! _Blaine!" _

Santana Lopez shoved her way through the people crowding McKinley's hallway, cursing Blaine's ability to weave in and out of a crowd easily. _It must be his height _she thought bitterly as she spotted him, looking back over his shoulder, and sped up. She growled, causing people to turn and look at her in shock, but she didn't care. That stupid Hobbit was going to get what was coming to him..

She reached out her hand and pulled him by the scruff of his collar, making him halt. He huffed and folded his arms. She regarded him with amusement. He was acting like a petulant child.

"_Well?"_

Santana frowned at him, warmth lost from her features. She opened her mouth to send back a biting retort, but then she spotted the redness around his eyes and remembered why she had been following him.

"This assignment. You don't have to do it you know." She said softly, her hand placed tentatively on his shoulder. He sniffed and looked away at her words. She knew the expression. He was trying very hard to keep from falling apart.

"I-, It's,-It's just that,-I, this time last year-, and I-"

People were starting to stare, and she couldn't blame them, inspecting the broken boy in front of him. She dragged him to an empty classroom, as he gave up and stared down at his shoes. Once he had calmed down, she looked at him pointedly. He sighed.

"This time last year, I was serenading Jeremiah, and-" Tears filled his eyes. "-and he told me that he had feelings for me, and I just said no, and now, now I wish more than _anything _that I hadn't just _rejected _him like that. I just feel so stupid." He concluded in a whisper. He looked up at her, eyes brimming with tears. It was a pathetic sight, but you had to have a heart of stone to cast it off. Her maternal instincts kicked in, and she wrapped her arms around him, muttering soothing words and cursing Kevin for causing him this much pain.

"_Stupid Kevin."_

"What?" Blaine looked up at her, curiosity etched on his tear-stained face. Santana's eyes widened, and she shook her head, trying to appear nonchalant, though her heart beat abnormally fast at her slip-up.

"It's nothing. Just, my mind got caught up on something."

He seemed to believe it, and rested his head back against her chest. She felt him frown.

"Are you okay? Your heartbeat is going really fast."

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about me."

* * *

The sound of a phone ringing interrupted the clanking and general chatter filling the garage. Kevin Hunter stuck his head out from under the car he was working on to glance at his boss.

"Can I take it?"

Mr Harris grunted in assent. Kevin grinned, sticking his hand in the pocket of his coveralls to pull out the phone and hold it to his ear, rolling back underneath the car. A hushed conversation could be heard, until a muffled thump and "Crap that hurt." He emerged a few seconds later, rubbing his head. Mr H bit back a smile, gesturing towards the door and returning back to his work. Kevin smiled back gratefully.

Once out of the door, Kevin returned to the phone.

"What did you just ask me?"

Brittany's tentative voice rang through. "Will you be my Valentine?"

"What exactly do you mean by that? Not that I don't want to, but we're kind of in different states here Britt."

"I know Kevin_, _I just-you're my.._" _Brittany stopped, and she seemed to be deliberating words.

"Your what?" asked Kevin curiously.

"You're my.. favourite person, and my best friend, and.. and there's nobody in the world I'd rather spend Valentine's Day with."

Kevin inhaled sharply, a lump forming in his throat and a warm feeling spreading in his chest. Brittany's innocence and sheer genuinity never ceased to amaze him.

"I would love that, Britt." He whispered, and chuckled lightly at the excited squeal at his words.

He knew that Brittany was still feeling lonely without a boyfriend, and although he had tried to coax her into giving Santana a chance, she was still not budging on the ordeal. However, it still made him feel honoured to be held so highly in Brittany's heart. He vowed that he would make this Valentine's Day the best she had ever had, ideas already forming in his head on ways to spoil her like no one had spoiled her before.

With that thought in mind, Kevin quickly fell into easy conversation with his friend, which ended only when Mr H poked his head around the door and demanded that Kevin return to his work, which, considering he had been speaking for over an hour, was pretty fair.

* * *

It didn't take long for Valentine's fever to hit full blast all over in Miami. Kevin wasn't complaining though, this made his job a lot easier, and he soon discovered that it was very practical to pretend that Brittany was his girlfriend than explain his situation. In fact, he got a lot of _Aaaws _and _That's so cute_s, as well as very helpful advice from the assistants hanging onto his every word, at his tale of battling distance, and in no time at all, he was walking out of the main jewellery store on the high street with a gift wrapped pendant he was sure Brittany would love. He was glad that Brittany's main gift was dealt with – his working hours were anything but lenient at that moment in time.

Kevin had to admit to himself that he was keeping himself deliberately busy, to avoid thinking of the upcoming holiday he would have to spend alone. Although Santana and Brittany had visited him over the Christmas vacation, his Christmas day had been spent alone – understandably, he would not allow the girls to spend Christmas away from their family – with a beer and Christmas TV, and New Years had been perhaps even more depressing, watching the ball drop live from Times Square, with not even his dad to hug, not even Finn to fist-bump. That had been the first night he had drank himself to unconsciousness, not that he'd ever repeated the incident. If Kevin was being honest, he didn't really understand why the approaching holiday was affecting him so much. All he knew, was that as long as he had Brittany, he could deal with anything, because at that moment, Brittany was the most important person in his life, closely followed by Santana, who he had formed a close bond with. However, as close as they could become, it was Brittany who had recognized him, and Brittany who held the bigger piece of his heart. He would make it up to her if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

Over a thousand miles away, Blaine closed his eyes, allowing his emotions to envelope him, overpowering his senses. He opened his mouth, and began to let it out, crooning softly, only just audible:

**Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor**

**Reachin' for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore**

**And I wonder if I ever cross your mind**

**For me it happens all the time**

**It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now**

**Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now**

**And I don't know how I can do without**

**I just need you now**

**Another shot of whiskey can't stop looking at the door**

**Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before**

**And I wonder if I ever cross your mind**

**For me it happens all the time**

**It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now**

**Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now**

**And I don't know how I can do without**

**I just need you now**

**Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothin' at all**

**It's a quarter after one I'm all alone and I need you now**

**And I said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now**

**And I don't know how I can do without**

**I just need you now**

His voice had strengthened during the chorus, jumping higher in volume every verse, until he was screaming the lyrics, throat burning as tears cascaded down his cheeks. His heart was protesting its hundredth heartbreak, his eyes, their million tears. He began to sob, voice cracking at every other word, but continued, needing this song. As he reached the last few lines, the energy left him, leaving the lyrics at an almost-whisper.

**I just need you now **

**Ooh baby, I need you now**

His eyes opened once more, to find the New Directions looking at him, some crying alongside him, all with pity and sorrow in their eyes. He hiccoughed slightly, then composed himself, and left the room, wiping his eyes. Santana watched him leave for a few moments, then stood up and followed him out of the door, everybody's eyes on her. Nobody noticed Brittany discreetly slip her phone back into her pocket.

* * *

"Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!"

Kevin scrunched up his face as a loud voice of high pitch filled his ears. He burrowed deeper under his covers and spoke sleepily into the phone, which had managed to sufficiently blind and deafen him at the same time.

"Hey Britt." He had the sense to move the phone a good distance away so as to preserve his ear drums.

"_THANK YOU! I love it, I love it."_

"Brittany! We've had this conversation. It's five in the morning! People don't wake up at this time. Please, _please _keep it down."

A pregnant silence followed this outburst, during which Kevin felt guilt clawing at his insides for being so harsh.

"Thank you."

Kevin laughed out loud in relief that Brittany hadn't been offended and rolled over so he was lying on his stomach, phone now pressed safely against his ear.

"So I take it you liked the gift?"

Brittany's melodious laughter floated down the line and filled Kevin's ears.

"I loved it. Waking up to flowers and chocolates? How did you even manage that? You live in another state."

"I hope you don't mind. I.. sort of arranged it with your parents. They're very trusting by the way, I'm a bit worried.."

Brittany laughed again, and Kevin revelled in the sweet sound before changing the subject.

"So, how's school?"

"It's OK, Coach Sylvester had this new routine planned for us and.."

Kevin listened to her talk, marvelling at her ability to move swiftly from one topic to another, constantly reminding herself of more interesting things to say.

"Oh! And we're doing dedications in glee."

Kevin's ears pricked up at this news.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, you have to pick a song and dedicate it to anyone you want to."  
"Is that so?" He asked teasingly. "And who exactly are you dedicating _your _song to?"

"You, of course!"

Kevin had been expecting this, but it still brought a blush to his cheeks to hear Brittany say it so audaciously.

"Well, what song are you gonna sing?"

"I was thinking.. since it's our favourite show, and the lyrics are _so true, _that I would do… drumroll please.."

Kevin created a drummer sound with his mouth and Brittany giggled.

"..I'll Be There For You by The Rembrandts, made famous by one TV show that goes by the name of _Friends!"_

Kevin was speechless.

"Thank you so much Brittany, you don't know how much that means to me. And not to sound cheesy, well, a little, but _I'll be there for you too." _He said, in an overly exaggerated tone.

They lasted a total of three seconds before exploding into loud, raucous laughter, a kind that Kevin was sure would have the neighbours complaining, but he didn't care. It took five minutes for their fits to subside, and, still wiping tears from his eyes and shaking a little, Kevin asked:

"So, what songs have the others done?"

He heard a gasp from the other end, and Brittany's voice became very serious, sobering him up at once.

"I-I need to show you."

"O-Okay, do you have a video?" he asked, very confused.

"Yeah, I- I'll send it to you now. Can you go on Skype?"

"Sure."

Ten minutes later, Kevin was sat, now completely wide awake, with his laptop in his lap and Brittany peering at him through the screen.

"Ready?

"Ready." He confirmed, stomach churning at the prospect of this unknown, fidgeting slightly. Brittany nodded, and he opened the already waiting video file over the Skype window, obscuring her face, but enabling her to watch his. As he pressed play, there came into focus what he recognized as the choir room at McKinley, and his heart leapt at the familiar sight, that of which he had not seen for close to a year. Brittany had been kind enough to subtly pan the camera around the room so he could see everybody's faces. With a jolt, he recognized his old best friend Mercedes, and his step-brother Finn, and _there_ was Santana, and Sam and..

Standing in the middle of the room, face down and looking strange without his usual dapper uniform was Blaine. He looked up, and Kevin realized what the purpose of the video was a moment before it started. He raised his hand shakily to click the _Pause _button, but before he could make it, a familiar and hauntingly beautiful voice began singing:

**Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor…**

The emotion was clear in every syllable, heartbreak, and _pain. _Was Kevin really capable of causing that? _No _he reminded himself. _Kurt was, you're not._ He watched Blaine's broken outro and departure, feeling numb. The video ended, the window minimized itself automatically, and Kevin was left staring at a sympathetic Brittany. Kevin took a deep, shuddering breath, and very calmly stated, "Nothing to do with me," before shutting the lid of his laptop closed and getting ready for work.

* * *

**Review please**

**Reviews make me happy  
**

**Which make the story happy  
**

**And we've had enough angst haven't we?  
**

**Hah.. noo there's still angst to come..  
**


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note:**

**Heyyyyy! Sorry for the delay, but this took aages to put together. Plus this school year is really slowing me down, there's so many assignments/homework/coursework/allthatjazz to get through!  
**

**I hope you feel this chapter is worth it though, about the same word count as the last one (excluding the song)  
**

**See you on the other side!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee. But, seriously, season 4 right now...  
**

* * *

There followed after Blaine, a more light-hearted compilation of songs that stretched throughout the week. Brittany's version of _I'll Be There For You _had everyone joining in, and a very delighted Kevin listening in from Santana's phone. Even Blaine had brightened, as Sam had taken the opportunity to bring out the country in him, singing his cheering rendition of _Red Solo Cup _in Glee. The couples had decided to leave their Valentine's dates until the weekend, and spent the weeknight with the rest of the New Directions at Breadstix, to which Brittany and Santana could not attend. In reality, they were spending the holiday with their own friend, over Skype and chatting while _Friends _played in the background.

Despite the cheerful mood, the trio still found time to discuss the more serious matters, as Valentine's Day drew to a close.

"It's coming up, K."

Kevin took a deep breath, and looking at Santana and Brittany's earnest faces.

"I know." He said. "Less than a month."

"What are you going to do?"

"_I don't know."_ He said, quite truthfully. "It's been ten years. I can't _not _go."

Brittany's face lit up at the prospect, and Kevin felt guilty for getting her hopes up.

"I'm not coming back, Britt." He said softly. "I just need to see my mom. I'll be there and back, three days max."

"You can stay with-"

"_No, _Brittany."

Brittany cast her eyes downwards and leaned back into Santana's arms. Kevin watched as Santana froze, then inhaled deeply before circling her arms around Brittany and slowly rested her head on the other girl's. Kevin smirked slightly as Santana noticed his gaze and flushed scarlet. He continued to leer at her knowingly, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh shut up," she snapped, and buried her face in Brittany's hair as the sounds of Kevin's snickers filled the dimly lit room.

* * *

Kevin had less than a month to plan his brief return to Lima very carefully. Though he doubted he would get recognized, he would have to watch himself to make certain that nothing would give him away if faced by someone from his past. At the garage, he threw himself into his work, working extra hours, and ensuring that it would be alright to take a few days off when he needed to. The days were flitting past, and his nerves at returning were beginning to creep up on him, startling him and causing him to drop whatever was in his hands at the time. The resulting equipment that he ended up damaging deemed his extra hours worthless.

It felt like no time at all before the eve of his trip was upon him, and he awoke early by a well-timed phone call from Brittany. He had calculated it so that he arrived precisely in two days' time, meaning ten hours a day and enough for a break in between. Brittany and Santana had broken him - he had eventually agreed to stay at each of the girls' houses for a total of five days, during which _they believed _they could persuade him to stay. It had only been Brittany's insanely hopeful expression that had stopped him from laughing derisively.

Kevin rubbed his eyes wearily, climbing into his car, and driving lazily to the nearest gas station to fill up on fuel for the journey ahead of him. With the change in his pocket he bought a cup of – disgusting- coffee and climbed into his car, lowering the windows to allow the cold morning air to wake him up. As Kevin approached the town borders, listening to the radio (and still marvelling, even a year later, at the fact that this was his home), his phone rang. He slowed as he approached a nearby traffic light, and quickly answered the call, setting it to loudspeaker and throwing it back onto the passenger seat. He chatted idly to the girls on the other end, the loud voices coming from such a close proximity making him feel like he wasn't alone in the car. It was nice, really, with Brittany singing whenever there was a lull in conversation, and keeping up friendly yet snarky banter with Santana, and Kevin found himself, for the first time since he had left, excitedly anticipating returning to Lima.

* * *

It was nearing daybreak when Kevin lazily pulled out of the parking lot of _The Sundust Inn_, having rested there for a few hours before resuming his journey to Ohio. There was quite a while left; he had pulled over somewhere near Atlanta the previous night, and now had several hours of driving ahead of him. As he made the smooth transition between the main road and the high way, the sun peeked out from beyond the horizon, blinding him momentarily and casting everything in a bright orange glow. Kevin screwed up his eyes, squinting at the road and cursing the sunrise, but, before he knew it, the sun was high enough in the sky that it wouldn't obstruct his vision. He had discovered, for the second time in his eighteen years (though his ID boasted 21) that driving, although relaxing and with an abundance of breath-taking views and sights, was quite tiresome – he had a twitch in his right leg that he knew could be potentially dangerous, but he drove on relentlessly. The excitement from the previous afternoon had faded, and all that was left was a sick feeling in his stomach – he had a feeling that if he stopped now, he would turn back. And he _had _to do this. It was the most crucial of all his traditions, and this year -_tomorrow –_ it would have been ten years to the day since the his mother had passed away. If he had to go alone, that was fine by him, all that mattered was that he be there, at her grave stone, because Kevin or Kurt, she had been his mother. His _Mom. _With that thought in mind, and with 520 miles (give or take) left till Lima, Kevin accelerated.

* * *

On the morning of his first wife's anniversary of death, Burt awoke after a fitful night's sleep. His dream had not been that at all, but a distant memory, from Kurt's early childhood, one where he, Elizabeth and Kurt had had a summer picnic in the back yard of their old house. It had been so vivid, Elizabeth's chestnut hair falling onto one shoulder in a messy yet elegant braid, a smile gracing her beautiful face as she tickled a young Kurt, his childish giggles music to Burt's ears. Disappointment, and then guilt had washed over him once he had awoken, as he looked down at a sleeping Carole. He loved Carole, he did, with all his heart, but that was not to say that he didn't love Elizabeth, and didn't miss her. He still sometimes walked in on Carole talking to the urn of Christopher's ashes, though she stopped immediately when he entered the room, and a pretty blush would rise on her cheeks. Sighing, Burt leaned down and kissed Carole's temple before swinging his legs out of bed and getting dressed, intending to leave the house inconspicuously. This plan was foiled, however, when he reached the bottom of the stairs and was greeted with the sight of a fully-dressed Finn and Blaine standing there, seemingly waiting for him, with a cup of coffee each in their hands and one for him.

"You didn't think we'd let you go through this alone, did you?"

Burt spun around at the sound of Carole's voice, and found her in her dressing gown, descending the stairs behind him. Burt felt a lump rise up his throat and fought back tears of gratitude at his amazing family.

Less than ten minutes later, they had arrived at the West Lima cemetery, where Burt found the entirety of the New Directions and Will Schuester standing outside the gates. Burt turned to face Blaine, Finn and Carole, dumbfounded, to find all three with grins on their faces. For the second time that morning, Burt was hit with his gratitude for the support he had in his life. However, these thoughts were interrupted by a pang of realization on pain that, wherever he was, his son didn't have that. With a sad smile, Burt inclined his head to the gates, and followed through, leading the way to Elizabeth's gravestone.

* * *

Kevin was pissed. Like _pissed. _He was running late, and judging by the pace he was going he wouldn't reach the cemetery by the following week. Idiotically, they hadn't anticipated traffic, and now he was drumming the steering wheel in frustration as a never ending line of cars filled his vision. To add to this, his phone had died the previous night while talking to a sleepy Brittany, and so for the past few hours he had switched on the radio, only to find the most annoying songs possibly in _existence _playing. It hadn't been long until Kevin had switched it off and sat fuming in silence.

Kevin knew, deep down, that his phone and traffic were the least of his worries. There was a roundabout in a couple of hundred metres that would set him on a much less congested route. No, Kevin knew that his anger was a reflection of the nerves that had crept up on him unexpectedly the night before. They had manifested into pure, nauseating fear that was curling in the pit of his stomach and making him feel irritable. He was nearing Lima; in fact, hardly any time at all had passed until he had entered the small town, feeling a horrible lurching in his gut every time he drove past a familiar landmark. He had had to pull over and breathe for five minutes, resting his head on the steering wheel, when he had passed the great looming building of McKinley High School, but nevertheless, he started the ignition, and, hands shaking slightly, started driving slowly towards the cemetery.

It was nearing three o'clock when Kevin pulled over into the parking lot, having prolonged his arrival as much as possible, fearing what he might find. Now, he stepped out of the car, a Lima Bean coffee cup in his hand –mocha, non-fat- and pulled his leather jacket tighter over himself. If he had thought he had been nervous before, it was nothing to how he was feeling now. Once more, he checked his _useless dead phone_, though mostly out of habit, before slipping it in his pocket and walking through the open gate into the cemetery.

* * *

Santana caught sight of him first, as he strode quickly into the far end of the cemetery, head bowed and looking dejected. For a moment, her heart leapt at the sight of him, real, in front of her- and then sank at the realization that everybody whom Kevin had worked for a year –_exactly _a year - to avoid was standing behind her, mourning his disappearance. She made a small panicked noise in the back of her throat, and grabbed Brittany, pulling her behind the oak tree under which Elizabeth Hummel's gravestone lay, out of earshot of the rest of the mournful group.

"Look over there!"

Brittany stared in confusion at her panicked friend, and then her blue eyes grew wide as she spotted what Santana had. Her eyes flitted between Kevin and the group (Santana noticed she focussed a bit more on Blaine than anybody else), before looking back at Santana in horror. This horror, however, seemed to dissipate before Santana's eyes, as she watched, impressed, as Brittany thought of a plan. Santana had just been thinking that it was a marvel that Kevin hadn't looked up yet, when she felt a yank on her elbow, and stumbled, hurrying to keep up with a hastening Brittany, who had just called,

"We're gonna get some more coffee!"

Kevin looked up at this point, looked straight at the two girls running to get to him, and then past them, to the huddle still under the tree. His eyes widened in horror as Brittany's had done, and then he hastily turned on his heel and marched back towards the exit. Brittany and Santana, having just caught up with him, each wrapped an arm around each of his and aided him, waddling strangely with the force of six legs, back to the parking lot. They reached the gate, and once they had, they each sprinted to Kevin's car before anybody spotted them. It wouldn't bode well with anybody to see the girls driving off in a stranger's car.

They drove for ten minutes before anybody spoke again.

"Hey girls," Kevin said. "It's good to see you again."

* * *

**KEVIN'S BACK IN LIMAAAAA! Progress at last ;)**

**What'd you guys think? Review please :)  
**


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note:**

**Heh. Hi.  
**

**I'm sorry this is so late, just know that this was a really really difficult chapter to write, even though it's mostly filler...BUT IMPORTANT FILLER :)**

**But yeah. Also, school's a bitch. Just sayin'**

**Anyway, hope you like it, and sorry again :(**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee.**

* * *

They stopped off at a nearby café, Kevin bought the girls' drinks, and they sat at a corner table, sipping them as Santana and Brittany explained the last minute plan that Finn and Blaine had described to them that morning.

"So, what am I going to do?"

Brittany put her hand over Kevin's, squeezing it sympathetically.

"I don't know."

It was eventually decided that Kevin would drop the girls off at the cemetery and come back later that day. However when they returned, and the girls trooped out, holding flowers that Kevin insisted on buying – "If I'm not going to see her, this is the least I could do."- Kevin found himself following them through the gates. There were not as many people as there were earlier, evidently some New Directions members had to leave, but there were still enough that Kevin could not risk getting recognized, in any case, with his father around (and he felt a pang of pain at the thought of his dad) he could not chance getting close to the group.

Instead, he watched as the girls walked back to the oak tree, and he walked around the edge of the cemetery, staring at the rows of gravestones, until he found he could no longer deal with the despair filling his heart, and collapsed against the low wall separating the burial ground from the street beyond. He brought his knees up to his chin and lowered his face onto them, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. He closed his eyes, and allowed a single tear access through his eyelids, feeling it dribble down his cheek and into the knee of his jeans. It was heart-breaking, remembering the events of ten years ago, feeling that misery wash over him, and doing nothing about it. Even more so was the fact that he was _here. _He had driven all the way from Miami to come to her, to come _here, _and he _still _had to keep his distance. How was it fair that _they _got to stand close to the place where she lay, that they got to lay their flowers and speak their feelings, while _he, _her _son, _had to sit two hundred metres away?

"_I'm sorry." _He thought desperately, hoping that she could still hear him, that she could feel that connection although he was so far away.

"_I'm so sorry, Mom, you deserve everything, you deserve the best, and.. I love you so much Mom."_

It was becoming easier to talk to her, to do what he usually did, with every word he thought.

"_You're probably disappointed in me. I changed, I changed everything. You told me to never do that. You said to never change who I am, that everyone will love me anyway, that I should be proud. Well, I guess I failed you. I'm not proud of who I am." _

He began to sob, tremors coursing through his body as he clutched at his knees even tighter,

" _I've messed everything up. I don't know what I'm going to do anymore. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."_

* * *

Burt turned around yet again to glance at the entrance of the cemetery before sighing dejectedly, finally resigned to the fact that _he_ wasn't coming. Trying to ignore the voices in his head which prompted morbid thoughts about the reason for this, he motioned to Carole and began to walk reluctantly back to the gates, beckoning to the others to follow him. It was decided. If Kurt hadn't returned to visit Elizabeth's grave on the tenth anniversary of her death, the chances of him returning at all were nil. _You've really messed it up this time _he thought dejectedly, screwing his face up against the inflow of tears threatening to escape him for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. The urge to scream his sorrow to the heavens was extinguished as he felt his wife wipe his tears gently away with the pad of her thumb, all the while slipping her hand into the one at his side and intertwining their fingers. Burt gave her a grateful smile and swung their hands slightly. They walked slowly towards the entrance, before jumping as a quick flash of bright light filled his vision, followed by a deafening rumble of thunder. He looked up at the sky, aghast, to notice too late the dark clouds that were rolling in, bringing with them sheets of rain that drenched the entire party from head to toe.

"_RUN!"_ he called, laughing properly for the first time that day as he raced the kids, slipping and sliding back to the car. Once they had reached it, Burt turned and shouted in the direction of the two soaking girls.

"_DO YOU WANT A RIDE?"_

"_NO, IT'S OKAY MR HUMMEL. WE CARPOOLED HERE."_

Burt gave them the thumbs up before climbing into the driver's seat and driving out of the parking lot, watching the girls in the rear-view mirror as they stood in the downpour, waving.

* * *

Santana and Brittany waited until the Hummel-Hudson family car was well out of sight before turning and running back inside the cemetery. At a sweeping glance the cemetery appeared empty, and Santana's heart sank, lifting only ever so slightly when she spotted Kevin lying motionless on the ground a few hundred yards away. Turning to look worriedly back at Brittany, Santana ran, shielding her face from the rain, towards her fallen friend. Her frame of mind did not improve at the sight of him. He was lying on his back; spread eagled over an unfamiliar grave, unconscious. Brittany caught up just as Santana was inspecting Kevin's head and her gasp was drowned by the still pounding rain. Situated on the back of Kevin's skull was a dark wound, undoubtedly caused by a blow to the head by the marble gravestone of which he was lying under.

"_CALL 911!" _yelled Santana, and though she doubted Brittany heard it over the cracking of a second thunderclap, she was sure she had got the gist.

Santana cursed the freak weather all the way to the hospital. Sure, it had probably been an overreaction to call an ambulance to get Kevin to the emergency room, but neither she nor Brittany had any idea how to deal with a head injury. Besides, these was the perfect opportunity to introduce Kevin to her mother, and possibly try to change her mother's disapproving views on what she had heard of Kevin. She doubted that anybody who had taken the time to get to know Kevin, or Kurt, could possibly dislike him – such was his charismatic personality. If anybody could charm her foreboding mother, it was Kevin Hunter.

* * *

Kevin blinked his eyes blearily, feeling as if his head had gained ten pounds. There was a dull throb at the back of it, and beyond that, what felt like a comfy pillow. He glanced up, and was met with the faces of Santana and Brittany.

"Hello." he said, lamely.

Santana looked relieved, but Brittany, angry.

"Hello? _Hello? _You scared us half to death, you asshole!"

Kevin's eyes were wide as he stared up at Brittany; rage seemed to be emanating from her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't-"

Santana shushed him quietly and grabbed Brittany's hand. Although she was still staring at him, she seems to relax slightly – the crease between her eyebrows lessened, and she eventually looked away. Kevin felt relief course through him at this, quickly replaced by confusion.

"Wait, where am I? What happened?"

Brittany looked back at him, and he recoiled slightly in fear. There seemed to be regret in her face, however, as she studied him.

"You don't remember? At the cemetery?"

_Cemetery... _Realization burst through him with a jolt, and he bolted upright, or attempted to. At the sudden movement, the dull pain resonating at the back of his skull turned sharp. Wincing, he rested his head back down, but remained alert. He took in his surroundings. He was in an ambulance, and judging by the still-present ache at the back of his head, it was the cause. He remembered sprinting through the grave stones as soon as his father had left, he must have slipped on the mud that had been quickly formed by that damn thunderstorm.

"What kind of thunderstorms happen in March anyway?" he grumbled to himself, feeling a mixture of shame at his clumsy moment and bitter disappointment that he had missed visiting his mother's grave.

"Actually, most thunderstorms happen in spring through summer. We'll be arriving in five minutes, by the way sir."

Kevin raised his eyebrows at the unfamiliar voice, realizing a second later that it must have been a paramedic. The paramedic moved closer, and Kevin's eyes focussed on the face of a handsome man, with green eyes and brown hair styled into a coiff.

Kevin didn't say anything. The way the man was raking his eyes over his chest was making him uncomfortable.

"Would you prefer a stretcher or..?"

"I'd like to walk thanks." Said Kevin firmly. He grasped Santana's arm and pulled himself up slowly, trying to hide his pain from the inappropriate paramedic, as the ambulance pulled into a parking spot.

"Well, then, I'll accompany you. In case you require any.. _assistance._"

"That's quite alright, I'm-"

"Hospital policy."

Kevin huffed and climbed out of the vehicle, Santana and Brittany immediately joining him at either side. The man closed the door of the ambulance and followed them ion the direction of the emergency room.

"This way, sir." He said, quite unnecessarily.

With ten metres left to the automatic doors, the paramedic stopped Kevin by grabbing his shoulder, and holding out his hand.

"Sebastian Smythe, junior paramedic."

Kevin chanced a glance at Santana who was stifling a giggle at his expense, and forcing a smile, held out his own hand to shake.

"Kevin Hunter."

As Kevin pulled back from the shake, he was aware of a piece of paper in his hand. He looked down at it, then up at Sebastian.

"Call me." Sebastian winked, took Kevin's state of shock as an opportunity to check him out once more, and walked away. Kevin watched him, horrified, as Sebastian confidently sauntered back to the ambulance and climbed in.

The silence that followed was broken by Santana's snorts. Brittany also was making no effort to hide her sniggers. Kevin glowered at them, and they sobered up immediately. However, he merely smirked and, linking their arms in his, led them into the hospital.

* * *

"Remind me again why I let you do this to me?"

Santana rolled her eyes as she put her car in reverse, and parked neatly in the allotted space. She turned the engine of her car off and turned to the passenger seat to find Kevin with his arms crossed and sulking like a petulant child.

"Because you can't drive for another three days, and my mother doesn't trust you enough to leave you at my house alone," she said through gritted teeth.

Kevin sneered at her. The action would have only annoyed her further if she hadn't noticed a flash of anxiety betray his seemingly irritated façade. Her face softened slightly, and she reached for his hand, squeezing it gently.

"It's only until one o'clock. Then me and Britt'll be done, and we'll go out, 'kay?"

He grinned at her.

"I'm not a kid," he said. "You don't have to bribe me with outings and candy. Although if you do pass the vending machines, get me some Twizzlers."

Santana let out a huff, and took the key out of the ignition, handing it to him.

"No driving, okay? I'm just giving it to you in case you want to sit on your own for a bit. If Brittany found out I gave you this-"

It was Kevin's turn to roll his eyes.

"Yes, okay, okay, no driving, got it. Now go, you're gonna be late."

Santana opened the door to get out, then leaned back in and pecked him lightly on the cheek.

"See you later!" she hollered as she ran, heels clacking, to the front doors of McKinley High School.

* * *

**About time, huh? I wonder what happens ;)  
**

**Review please, and let me know what you think!**

**Also, if anyone wants to talk about the Glee episodes and/or spoilers for the next ones, PM me, I have nobody to fangirl with :( **

**Bye! **


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